


Mammals of Freedom

by Jknight97, NightWolf0179, Wolfknight0179



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Drama & Romance, F/M, Minor Character Death, Slave Collars, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jknight97/pseuds/Jknight97, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightWolf0179/pseuds/NightWolf0179, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfknight0179/pseuds/Wolfknight0179
Summary: Bellwether has a plan, an ingenious plan, to spread the power of the prey nation. She wants everyone to be happy, even the mammals of Deerbrooke, who don’t want her help. But to do so, she will need an army.





	1. The Plantation

**Author's Note:**

> Night Wolf’s A/N: It’s funny. I never once thought I would be writing stories about a fictional world in which animals walked and talked. Nor did I think I’d be turning that family-friendly setting into something that is far less family-friendly and far more sinister. Funny how life exceeds your expectations. XD
> 
> I am still trying to figure out what exactly pulled me into not only Zootopia, but also, it’s an amazing community of writers, artists, and readers. I am so glad I took the chance with it. The creations this community has made really helped me out in a time of need. They are as amazing as they are uplifting.
> 
> After reading countless stories, I found myself wanting to create my own. I wanted to play a larger role in the community (and I wanted to create my own version of Nick and Judy’s romance… no judging… plz.. XD). While I was embarrassed about my first story - which I do plan on remedying in a remake in the near or far future - I kept thinking about what other stories I could create for this community. This story, Mammals of Freedom, is the result of that.
> 
> Perhaps it’s my most ambitious project yet - that’s including other things I have done in my past that are not even related to Zootopia.
> 
> But it is not right to call it ‘my’ project. This story would not be what it is today if it was not for the talent of JKnight97. His input has been invaluable to me in my previous story, so much so that I wanted him to be my co-author.
> 
> And boy, has he taken the role seriously! His ideas and additions have morphed this story into something that is far more refined than my original idea (which is a timeline sitting somewhere in my Google Drive). While the core is the same, his ideas have made this story into something that I believe is truly great!
> 
> And he’s done more than just that. A large portion of this chapter was written by him. I will not say which unless he wants me to - perhaps it’d be fun for you all to guess which portions are written by who - but a good amount of it was mainly written by him.
> 
> I cannot say how grateful I am to have his help.
> 
> And he’s not the only one who has taken this story and helped it along. DancingLunarWolves and Stubat007 have lent us their editing skills and squashed some errors that both JKnight and I have missed even after reading the story drafts several times over! I greatly appreciate their help. These two individuals edited this story without even asking anything in return - that is a quality of good people. So, thanks you two! I cannot say thank you enough!
> 
> Well, that about covers everything I wanted to say. I hope you’re ready for a Wilde ride! This story will be a long one, I can tell you that!
> 
> And before I forget… There may be a hint of romance between two very famous characters in Zootopia. Just thought I’d let ya know. ;)
> 
> JKnight97’s A/N: So, this was a first for me and a blast to do! It’s taken us several months but we finally pulled it off. I owe it all to my young partner and collaborator, NightWolf0179, for it was his vision that he shared with me and he kindly asked me to help him write this story. It has taken almost three months (and still counting) to finally be satisfied with this chapter. And we’re not done yet! ;)
> 
> Many thanks also to our two editors, DancingLunarWolves and Stubat007 for their invaluable input and editing skills.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters are owned by ©Disney. Any resemblance to actual persons or mammals, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

**Prologue**

In the Zootopian Council Room, the Vice-Mayor, Dennis Lambert, stood before the all-prey council and declared, “We, as the nation of Zootopia, have accomplished so much in so little time. No other nation can say that they have a poverty level of under one percent. No other nation can say that they are nearing technology that is borderline sci-fi. No other nation can say that their citizens are all happy and content with their lives.

“We owe it all to Dawn Bellwether, our glorious leader, for this amazing time of total prosperity. She was the only mammal strong enough to step up to the plate, and thus, we owe her everything, even our very lives. She has given us so much to make us happy.

“So let’s give back to her. We have come to rely on our predator workers for everything from construction to production. But we no longer need them. We no longer need those mangy pelts to do our work for us.

“Let her take your predators, let her use them as her war machine, and let the entire planet prosper as a result!”

 

* * *

 

"Have you talked to everyone?"

"Hmm?" A slender, wiry body underneath a thin, beige sheet answered. "Oh! Yeah… I, uh, I did." His voice was youthful and quick.

A small silence hung in the air with faint scribbling as the only noise. "No one changed their minds?"

"Nope," the young voice replied, emphasizing the 'p' sound. "They don’t want to jeopardize anything."

"Stubborn fools," the other muttered with a low, deep voice that contrasted his tiny size. His voice did not sound like it belonged to what he was: a tiny fennec fox. "I don't get it."

"Fin… What would you do if you were them?" The body sat up; the sheet sliding off him. The action revealed golden-red fur and intelligent, emerald eyes belonging to a red fox. "Imagine how difficult it would be to lay low with so many others. Seventy heads to feed, seventy voices chatting away, seventy pairs of pawprints… Just moving from place to place without being seen would be nearly impossible. Now, if they were ninety-nine pups and it’s the dead of winter, that would be a different story…but it’s not and they aren’t."

Finnick grasped his pencil tightly and continued scribbling, nearly breaking the lead. "Difficult, but possible, Nick. It's been done before. Remember the otters that escaped from the Jack family? They did it, and there were over fifty of 'em. It's possible."

The fox in bed rolled onto his side and stretched, causing his shirt to lift up. Doing so made his fur ripple, subtlety hinting at strong muscles hidden beneath. "Try convincing them of that. Besides, that’s an urban legend and we don’t have any proof it really happened."

The fennec growled angrily. "It was your job to convince them. A simple one," he snapped.

"You know why they refuse to go with us,” Nick countered. “They've made it painfully clear to us last week."

"Then you shoulda knocked some sense into them!"

"They're not dumb. They know exactly what they're giving up."

"Yeah, their only chance at having an actual life!"

"What am I supposed to do? Drag them by their tails?"

"Dammit, Nick, they shouldn't have to live like this! We shouldn't be the only ones leaving!" Fin's voice made his best friend's ears fold back. “Do they wanna live the rest of their lives here?" Finnick flicked his eyes away from his journal and stared into the other fox's eyes. "Nick… did you even try to convince them?" A sigh was the only answer he got. "I swear, Nick, I’m going to bite your face off!" yelled the tiny vulpine.

"Do you think I want to leave them behind!" The taller fox of the two stood up. "They’re the only family I have left. Them… and you. Trust me, I tried. But they wouldn't budge."

The fennec fox turned back to his journal. Grinding his teeth, he muttered an apology under his breath. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have snapped at you."

Nick walked up to his best friend and put his paw on his shoulder. "Yeah…" A moment passed by before he spoke again.  "Whatcha writing?" It wasn't worth a fight.

A sigh escaped from both of them. "Just…plans." He grabbed his eraser and started rubbing away at a sentence. "For after tomorrow. Ever wanted to find your mother? If we-"

"No, Fin. We both know she's gone and we won't have the time to search, anyway." Nick removed his paw from his friend's shoulder. "You still haven't told me anything about your parents."

The fennec grunted. "Like I said before, not much to tell."

"Then why not? Should be a quick conversation."

Finnick began writing again. After a few seconds, he growled, "I thought a kit's annoying curiosity went away by their teens."

Despite his friend's obvious annoyance, Nick chuckled. "I may be twenty-one, but I still like to think of myself as a kit." He sat down on the bed again and succumbed to his thoughts for several seconds. "It's not like any of us have seen anything other than this plantation and a few factories. Never get to see or hear anything new. Curiosity doesn't go away if you've never actually seen anything to satisfy it."

"…Yeah," Finnick replied, shutting his journal.

Nick's voice became quiet and soft. "Look… I won't ask again. I'm sorry. I know it's personal… I just want to help. You've always been there for me…but you never let me do the same for you." The air became still as Nick waited for Finnick to answer. After a minute, Nick decided to change the subject. Now was not the time for these things. "I'm still surprised you kept that journal hidden for the entire time you've had it."

"What, you think I'd let them take away one of my only possessions?" He stood up and walked over to his own bed next to Nick's.

"How did you even get away with stealing it?"

"Well…" Finnick stopped to jump up into his bed. For all the years they had been incarcerated, his masters never considered that he might need a shorter bed; he always had to climb into it. "Luck."

Nick snorted. "Ha! Luck, you say? I was left with a bleeding nose. Why am I always the distraction?"

Finnick laughed. "You know why. Go to bed. If you mess up tomorrow, I am gonna bite your face off."

"Heh… Okay, bud." Nick laid back down. "Though...you'll have to do that in the afterlife. If we're caught, you know what'll happen."

Once Finnick got comfy - well, as comfy as one could get whilst lying on a bed that was only marginally better than the cold, hard ground - he turned to face Nick. "Don't care, I'm still going to kill you."

Nick laughed again. "Sure you will."

A grunt from his friend told Nick that the conversation was over. Soon after, Finnick's trademark snore began to rumble its way through the room.

Sleep always came easily for the fennec fox. It was a trait that Nick envied. Every night, within mere minutes, the snoring would come and Nick would still be up. It was as reliable as the sun's promise to rise in the morning.

It wasn't like Nick could help his sleeping problems, it was just a part of him. His thoughts were impossible to control, always running rampant and awaking forgotten concerns that would inevitably tug at his eyelids until sleep was blinked away from them. Tonight was no exception.

This time, he thought about the life he was leaving behind. The fox was not necessarily going to miss it. Slavery was not a life he, or anyone, wanted to live. But he was definitely going to miss his family. While he was not actually related to any of the foxes there, they had been through enough for him to consider them as family. Finnick was one such example. Nick shared no blood with him whatsoever, but the bond they had could not be considered anything else other than brotherly.

It wasn’t like he had any real family left, anyway.

Despite his telling the rest of the pack that they truly were all Nick had left, they had still refused. They wanted Nick's and Finnick’s happiness over their own. After all, everyone else was at least in their fifties and the two younger foxes were still in their twenties. They still had many years ahead of them. Plus, there would be fewer slavers looking for two foxes rather than seventy of them. What's two lost slaves? Sure, they were the most capable, but the family they were enslaved under, the Robinsons, happened to be a bunch of filthy rich rabbits. They already had another thirty teenage foxes coming in next week. It cost them eighty-thousand dollars, but that was a drop in the bucket to the rich snobs.

They even had ten kits coming. Little kits mercilessly ripped from their crying, pleading mothers and dragged into an auction house where they were sold to the highest bidder as nothing more than mere objects to be used and discarded. Nick had also heard that the majority of the new foxes were female. His hackles rose just thinking why that might be the case.

So no, the rabbits wouldn't miss two troublesome foxes. They already had a workforce that would last them for years.

Still…Nick knew he had to come back one day. He had made a silent promise to each and every fox under the Robinsons, including the newcomers, that he would break them out from their prison and give them a life worth living.

It was a purpose. One of the few things that kept Nick alive. He'd help others. He'd make their lives happier. If the fox had to, he'd die trying.

All Nick wanted to see was the end of everyone's suffering.

 

* * *

 

The year of 1797 will forever be remembered as the year in which one of the most important steps towards predator and prey harmony occurred: the settlement of the island that eventually became known as Zootopia. Unfortunately, the years that led to its creation are not remembered nearly as fondly. That span of decades held some of the darkest times in mammal history - specifically the Predator-Prey War. No one, not even modern historians, spoke easily on the subject.

It was a time of brutal, savage murder. Predators by then had stopped eating mammal flesh. They had grown intellectually and found protein alternatives in abundance. Their heightened intelligence had also given them morals and they wished to stop their hunts. But prey never forgave them. The history books were brimming with tales of predator fangs sinking deeply into the necks of past prey and their instincts still had an iron grip on their minds and bodies. The mere glance of a fang or claw would send an entire town into a frenzy. The soldiers of the town would immediately rush out with weapons drawn, ready to swiftly eliminate the predator, no questions asked and no mercy given.

Predators were not completely innocent, however. Some still hunted for sport. While most refused to do so, the few that did made sure to kill any prey they ever came across. Some even hung the heads of their kills as trophies.

It was a recipe for war between the two societies. When conflict finally broke out, it was horrific. All sense of morality was chucked into a river and forgotten. Only the need to kill and protect persisted in their minds anytime they confronted their enemy. Blood painted the ground and water supplies ran red while body parts were torn off and thrown into the mud. Deaths were often slow and agonizing, some even wishing to die only for them to suffer longer.

The Predator-Prey War was justified near-savageness in the eyes of both sides. For years, they had suffered immeasurable losses to the paws of their counterparts. Loved ones, acres of land, stockpiles of food…you name it, they lost it. A mammal could only take that kind of suffering for so long before something broke within them. This merciless war was meant to be the end of that suffering, whether it be the total annihilation of themselves or their adversaries. The phrase 'kill or be killed' hung heavily on their shoulders. 

Thus, both sides were ruthless.

Only some females and kits remained in the cities, left behind and broken, awaiting the inevitable end of the war. What that end would bring was up in the air. Would it be the precursor of their demise? Or instead, would it lift the pain they've been carrying for years? And how many would have to die to achieve either outcome?

Most did not have high hopes for the future. But some did. Some held a strong faith in their armies, believing that it was impossible for them to lose. How could they? After all, the only alternative was complete and total genocide, and that 'just would never happen to them'. They believed every piece of propaganda their species' generals fed them, almost like how a young kit would believe the words, "Everything will be alright," softly whispered out of their parents' muzzles.

Ignorance truly is bliss.

In actuality, the war was going terribly on both sides of the conflict. Casualties numbered higher than all previous wars, leaving so many with broken families and broken dreams.

The prey relied on their overwhelming numbers to win their battles for them. There were significantly fewer predator forces to deal with. Every time the two enemies met on a battlefield, the prey would always have at least three soldiers for each single predator soldier.

While that painted very poor odds for the predator side of the conflict, their generals were able to find ways to work around that particular weakness. With their enemy being in possession of such an enormous army, the prey's supplies quickly became an issue, and the predators exploited it whenever the chance came to pass. The generals, mostly consisting of lions and bears, would never go into a battle without first cutting off supply lines belonging to the prey army they wished to defeat. Then a month of waiting would follow while the predator forces feasted on the captured supplies and the prey forces starved.

This gave their armies a significant advantage. While the prey were forced to ration out their little food and water, the predators had no such concerns and ate as if they were wealthy.

The predator armies were also much more skilled than that of their prey counterparts. With fewer soldiers, the generals were able to train in a fashion that was more individualistic and fine-tuned while the prey had to rely on more group-based instruction that only provided mere basic training. This allowed the predators to closely observe their force's abilities and weaknesses. With that knowledge, they would then focus on areas that needed improvement. They were incessantly refining their strategy to suit their needs. This also made exceptional talent stand out much more among the rest. It was like finding diamonds within a small container as opposed to a larger one that the prey had to sort through.

Still, with their numbers so tiny in comparison, even with their advantages, battles were rarely one-sided. Each conflict often ended in bloodshed that crippled both sides. It was an evenly-matched war.

The prey had their own advantages as well. Their armies were more broken up into individual parts that operated like well-oiled machines. With so many to command, the armies were instead commanded by many individuals rather than few. One prey could be in charge of ten mammals and could easily react in response to what was occurring in the battlefield.

Predators had less of that. They still had a similar system, but with fewer resources they had to be more conservative and precise to avoid costly risks. As a result, they were more predictable. A bit more cohesive, but predictable nonetheless. Their machine was less dynamic.

But constant bloodshed on such a large scale was impossible. It had to end one day, either in total annihilation or in some sort of peace. Some concluded that life was too precious to ignorantly snuff out in a war that had already claimed millions.

This is what led a coyote and a sheep to meet up on an island that was untouched by the conflict. Blood had yet to stain its soil, only vegetation calling it home.

There, they spoke. They argued. They cried and they understood. A wish to end the suffering of everyone became deeply embedded into their very souls. It was then decided that they would spend at least a week on the island, testing the waters to see if it truly was possible for a predator and a prey to live together peacefully.

Perhaps it was a stupid idea. Meeting with the enemy could not only get one of them killed - it is far too easy to mask foul, murderous goals with good intentions - it could also exile them from their respective societies. ‘Traitor’ would forever stain both their names. But the cruelty of the war had to end somewhere. Not all wished for the complete eradication of their enemies, and this appeared to be the only way to stop the mindless bloodshed. The risk was worth it.

As the days progressed, it was almost painfully concluded that predators and prey were more similar than anyone ever thought was possible. They could live together. A coyote and a sheep could live together, even enjoy the other's presence. Once their time on the island reached seven days, they brought in their own families and settled alongside one another, slowly opening up their hearts to those that once were members of the army that had murdered countless friends and family. With understanding and empathy, the tears of widows and orphans who had lost their loved ones in battle, slid down the fur of both prey and predator, as they shared hardships and began building a bond that previously never existed.

Slowly, word spread throughout the world about the place where conflict between predator and prey was a thing of the past. At first, most ignored the set of rumors altogether. But as the news continued to spread for several weeks, it became apparent to some that the ‘rumors’ may actually hold some truth to them, and actual discussion of the topic finally began. A lot of mammals expressed a belief that such a thing was impossible, thinking that it was in their very nature to fight against their counterparts. With a history that consisted only of bloodshed and cruelty whenever the two sides crossed paths, it really did seem like this was the case.

Though, not all thought like that. Some were open to the idea. Quite a few families even embraced the idea with a hopeful spirit and made the journey to the curious place. Many, upon seeing that the island was real and did indeed hold predators and prey together in a peaceful community, decided to stay and make a real home of the island. After so much fighting, they were ready to forget the past and start anew on the island-sanctuary away from the fighting.

As the weeks and months ran by, more families visited and decided to stay, hoping to make a home on the vast island. What once was merely two families grew into a town of both predator and prey. It would eventually be known as Zootopia, the city where one can be anything and everything regardless of species. Equality was a promise here.

As the island's peaceful population grew, hostilities elsewhere started to fade, until an official end to the war was declared. The infamous and horrific Predator-Prey War, which started out with a single gunshot, silently died because two brave mammals believed in an idea.

That did not mean it was a city of utter joy and happiness. Conflict did break out every now and then, but it was mostly kept within species. It was rare for two different species, especially a predator and a prey, to argue with one another. After everything they had done to each other, no one wanted to harm the other ever again. It was a sort of apology for the suffering they all had experienced at the paws of others.

Thus, peace reigned those few hundred years. That is until the shadow fell.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, things change over the course of hundreds of years. As business crept its way into the island, into Zootopia, the city grew until it became the largest and most advanced settlement in that part of the world, eventually becoming its own country. But with population growth came those that held deep-rooted hate that still existed despite predators and prey having lived harmoniously for years. These individuals - mostly prey since there were still many, many more of them - found their ways into positions of power. Not instantly, but gradually. Slowly. It was a process of deceit and cut-throat business practices. 

These individuals gained enormous pools of wealth and used that to gain political positions. In the year 1976, these speciesist prey had complete control of the government. Free to do whatever they wished with their positions as business owners and political leaders, they turned their efforts towards ridding the country of what they believe to be undesirables, otherwise known as predators.

No one noticed it at first. It was discrete and subtle. Maybe a predator family would be denied certain health coverage over pre-existing medical conditions while a prey family in a similar state of being was approved. Or maybe a single individual predator had his wages cut ever-so-slightly and without notification.

It was easy for those politicians to do this, too. With the power they had, it became easy for them to hide their actions in the dark. With no predators holding high enough positions to gain access to any files or to even be present during discussions, it would've required a true slip-up for something to be let out to the public.

This extremely slow stripping of rights continued on for about a year before a new law was passed that allowed businesses to refuse service to certain species because of their beliefs. A month before, predators were finally beginning to take notice of what was happening, but no one wanted to believe it and ignored it. They trusted the government. But when that law was passed, it became terrifyingly apparent that their government was truly against them. The city they all had come to call home was slowly becoming a monster.

Not a single predator understood why this was happening, but they were ready to stop it. Louis King, a tiny otter, was able to rally up a group of predators and prey in peaceful protest of the gradual loss of their equality. They gathered around City Hall, chanting several different phrases that said, "Equality for All" in some form or another.

When the protest became large enough for the streets to be flooded with mammals and for their voices to visibly vibrate the windows of City Hall, Louis was finally invited within the building. Several minutes passed and thousands of hopeful smiles remained trained to the doors of City Hall, all wishfully waiting for the door to open to reveal an otter with a victorious grin on his muzzle.

Amongst all the commotion, no one noticed the hooded figure darting through alleyways towards the back of the protest.

As they waited for what felt like hours, the protest continued to grow in number. As such, the chanting became louder, stronger, every new voice adding to it. The protest eventually became so large that no vehicular travel was possible if anyone wished to travel on any of the streets that led up to the building the army of mammals gathered around.

With a glint in her eye, the hooded mammal relaxed her muscles, stopping her breathing so that her aim with her rifle was as still as possible. After only a few seconds and with unrivaled speed and skill, she found a target and trained the barrel of her rifle at him. The shot was perfect, a blue orb shooting silently out of the barrel of the gun, striking a wolf directly on the black of his neck. He began convulsing on the ground, violently twitching until he rose up to stand on all four of his paws.

No one noticed for the first few seconds. The mammals of the protest were so distracted by their goal that they never once turned around for that quick moment.

With amazing speed, several more shots were fired, an equal number of predators collapsing to the ground. It only took seconds for them all to stand back up in the way that felt the most natural to them, all four paws planted firmly on the ground. Their vision became clearer and their hearing became enhanced.

The chanting kept the heartbeats of the protestors high, pumping their bodies with adrenaline. Their eyes continued to remain on the immobile doors, all waiting, all wishing, all hoping.

Seconds later, screams rang out. Blood spilled onto the burning concrete. Mammals crumpled to the ground with gashes and bites all over their bodies.

It was then that the chanting stopped. Louis stepped out the door only to have his heart drop as he watched his best friend leap towards him with his jaws wide open and stained with someone else's blood.

It was not until a few days later that the Mayor made the announcement containing an explanation for what had happened. "Predators are reverting back to their old ways," Mayor Woodson began. "Our scientists have concluded that they are different from prey, far more than what any of us thought. Deep inside them resides a savage beast, a creature called instinct, always ready to break free from its shackles and take control of its host. We must protect ourselves and them as well. While they cannot control their genetics, we can control the creature that is inside them."

Things were never the same from that day on. Predators lost more and more of their rights, becoming shunned and hated for being what they are. Tame Collars were tightened around their necks, curfews shortened their days, and any hope at having a say in government was crushed with a new law forbidding it.

It was not too long until they became slaves to prey. Their lives were reduced to indefinite servitude to those that they once lived in harmony with, to those that they once called friends and family.

 

* * *

 

Nick awoke after having slept only a few hours. The raucous sound of the loud morning tone poured through the predators’ barracks, calling everyone out to line up for the roll call. Everyone hurried out quickly. Any predator that failed to heed the call and fall into line would be severely punished.

Nick remembered the day when an old fox couldn’t get out of his bed to line up. Nick had only been in the camp for a month then, brought in when he was in his teens. He had observed the guards dragging the old helpless fox out into the yard where he had been lashed for insubordination then stuffed inside The Box the whole day without food or water.

The Box was a cruel device of torture. It was what its name implied: a metal structure measuring three feet wide by three feet long with a height of four feet. An offender was forced to fit inside the cramped space and left to suffer the elements. The time a prisoner spent inside depended on the severity of the offense...or on the mood of the head jailer.

The old fox had not managed to survive the scorching heat of the day and had been left inside despite his desperate cries for mercy. At the end of the day, his heart had given out due to the scorching heat of the sun. The body had been dragged out and left for the other foxes to take so they could bury the corpse according to fox tradition. After that demonstration, no one ever missed roll call again.

Nick looked over the prison that had been his ‘home’ the last ten years. The architects of the plantation had taken many pains to make sure the predators only way to leave their place of captivity was through a wooden pine box. They had built the predator barracks in the centre of the camp, far away from the fences, surrounded by a eight-foot high chain link fence with concrete flooring in order to prevent the prisoners from digging their way out. The main perimeter fences around the plantation were also made of a similar material but were at least ten feet high and topped with sharp barbed wire that could slice open any paw that attempted to climb over it. At each corner of the camp stood a sentry tower, each one equipped with several high intensity spotlights that could easily cut through the blackness of night. And, as a _coup de grâce_ , there was a minefield surrounding the camp, which extended out at least fifty feet beyond the fence perimeter.

As Nick lined up, he reflected that this could be his very last roll call. Tonight, he and Finnick were going to attempt to escape. If they were not able to get away, he swore they would not take him back alive as he could not imagine what the Camp Boss would do to him in order to make him an example to the others. He had not told the others when they were going to make the attempt as he did not want them punished if they were found out. Plausible deniability was the only protection he could give them if ever he succeeded with Finnick.

After the roll call, most of the able-bodied predators were then chained together by the ankles and led to the several trucks that were parked just by the main gate. They were to be loaded in them to start their backbreaking work for the day. The rabbit leading the chain-gang would then signal the sentry who then flipped the switch turning off the remote detonators in their collars as the trucks holding the predators trundled out of the compound.

Nick recalled the first brutal day when he had arrived at the camp. He and the other predators had been given a harsh demonstration of what the detonators in the shock collars could actually do. The Camp Boss had them lined up and had deliberately chosen a young cheetah for that purpose.

“You!” The rabbit called out as he waved the whip in his paw, indicating the young feline to step forward. “I’ll make you a deal. These shock collars have a range of one mile. I’ll give you a minute’s head start through the main gates and then I’ll turn the power back on. If you manage to be out of range by that time, you can keep going and I won’t come after you. How’s that sound to you?” He declared, sneering at the cat.

The young naive feline begrudgingly accepted the offer. It wasn’t as if he could turn it down anyway. He meekly nodded and took up his position just before the main gate. The rabbit guards jeered at him as he nervously waited for the signal to be turned off and the gate to be opened. As soon as it did, he took off like a shot down the stretch of road leading to the camp.

All the predator prisoners held their collective breaths as they watched him speed down the lonely dirt road. They were rooting for him to escape the clutches of their overseer, hoping to vicariously enjoy freedom through him.

Nick initially watched the male cheetah, marveling at the sheer beauty and poetry of his fluid motions, his legs pistoning beneath him like well-oiled machinery. However, he observed the Camp Boss turn his back on the racing figure and face the gallery of predators. Nick ominously thought it odd that he did. Then, halfway through the allotted time, the rabbit sneered at the captive audience and raised his paw holding the whip.

“ _That’s strange. It’s as if he wants to see our faces reacting to-”_ Nick wondered but this train of thought was suddenly interrupted the sound of a loud explosion and the gasps and screams from the mammals around him. He quickly looked back to where the cheetah was supposed to be but all he could see were body parts littered about the road. He clenched his paws in futile rage, aware that the dastardly lagomorph had lied to the feline merely to use him as an example to the others.

“That’s what happens to prisoners who try to escape,” intoned the sadistic voice of the buck, as he basked in the shock and fear of his prisoners. “Don’t try anything foolish and you’ll live longer than that useless pelt did,” he informed as he spat into the ground.

That had been over ten years ago but the memory had been burned forever in his mind. He vowed if he ever managed to escape he would find justice for the many cruelties suffered by the predators at the paws of the brutal bunny.

Just as Finnick and Nick were about to get into their assigned truck, the small fennec suddenly turned on Nick and pushed him roughly back.

“Watch where you steppin’, idjit!” snarled the small fox. “That’s the third time today you almost crushed my tail!”

“Well, if you picked it up instead of letting it drag behind you like some lost little pup, I wouldn’t have to step on it,” Nick growled back. “And who you calling an idiot? Jerk!” as Nick hit Finnick squarely in the chest with his closed paw causing the smaller fox to get tangled up in the chains, twisting his hind paw as he fell.

Finnick screamed in pain as he lay writhing on the ground, clutching his ankle. “Damn you, Wilde! I’m gonna bite your fucking head off!”

Nick suddenly felt like a million hornets were stinging him as his shock collar was activated by remote control by one of the rabbit bosses. Unable to even cry out as his jaw locked up, he fell to his knees as the electric charge seared throughout his body.

“Alright you pelts! What the hell’s going on here? You! Small fry! Stand up!”

Finnick attempted to do so but groaned in agony as soon as his injured hind paw touched the ground. “Sorry, Boss! I twisted it when I fell. I’ll need a crutch to move around for a while.”

“Shit!” muttered the rabbit as he bent down to unlock the fennec from the chain gang. “You’re useless to me. You!” he indicated to an older fox who was not chained to the rest, “Get this maggot-infested pelt to the clinic then give him a bag to help you pick up the trash around the camp. And you!” pointing his index digit to Nick, “You’re going to complete your buddy’s quota as well as yours today,” he sneered. “I’m not going to miss my monthly bonus because of a stupid pred like you. Now, move out!” he yelled.

Muscles aching from the electric shock, Nick slowly picked himself up and made his way onto the truck. He inwardly chuckled at the performance Finnick had given but rued as to why he was always the one getting hurt in order to pull off their cons.

As soon as the camp nurse, a vixen who used to work in one of Zootopia’s hospitals, wrapped up Finnick’s ankle and cleared him, he accepted the trash bag and litter stick from the older fox and hobbled his way around the camp. What the others didn’t know was that as he made his way into the motor pool and maintenance offices, he slowly and inconspicuously picked up various spare parts that he had hidden in plain sight which he then tucked into the garbage bag slung across his body. By the time the chain-gang had returned, Finnick had completed his task and surreptitiously hidden them in the small alcove where he kept his journal along with some of the other items Nick had acquired over the months from the outdoor gym and gardening shed.

Nick staggered in, body aching from having to haul twice the number of baskets filled with rocks from the quarry where they had been working. The chain-gang was mainly used as prison labor to do work that was either dangerous to prey or that the government officials felt were beneath prey dignity. Prisoners, composed mostly of predators, were used for backbreaking work like stone quarrying, clearing the brush along the major highways (where sometimes one of the prisoners would get hit by a speeding drunk driver), road and train track repairs, and on rare occasions, helping farmers harvest their produce.

Prison labor was accepted by the general prey populace as a means to ‘reform the savage beasts’ to the point that they were no longer seen as an oddity. The majority of prey took them for granted as they faded into the background, no longer giving them a second look.

As Nick collapsed on the cot, Finnick stealthily signaled they were on schedule for tonight. The small fox waited until ‘Lights Out’ was called and then began the process of assembling the item that would make or break their ability to escape later on. Nick quietly acknowledged the fennec’s signal and closed his eyes to get some rest. Once they put their plans into motion, they would be on the run and sleep would be the least of their worries.

 

* * *

 

The rabbit on sentry duty was bored. He was literally falling asleep on his paws, trying to maintain a semblance of doing his job. The security surrounding the camp had so many fail-safes, it was almost a joke to be a sentry.

He tried to stay awake thinking about what he could do with one of the female foxes he had his eye on. She was a pretty young vixen who had recently been transferred to the camp. He was aware that several of the other bucks had their eye on her as well and he made plans to speak with them to see what kind of entertainment they could cook up with her, whether she was a willing participant or not.

He looked down from his post and noted that one of the delivery sloths had lazily parked the gasoline truck next to the fence near the sentry tower. He frowned at this possible breach in protocol. Although it was a remote possibility that a prisoner could use it to climb over the fence, they would not survive the deadly minefield outside of the camp. And even if they did, their collars would automatically explode if ever they strayed outside the safety radius of one hundred feet. He inwardly smiled at the thought. He had heard about the young cheetah who had been used as an example many years ago. The older rabbits had even mentioned the body had continued to run after the head had been blown off completely until it eventually collapsed. He chuckled as he would have given his hind paw to see that.

He put it out of his mind as quickly as the idea came to him. As long as the tower with its signal antenna was standing, the prisoners would not be able to escape. It would take a pretty big explosion to take down the sentry post and he was certain the explosives in the weapons room could only be accessed by a few trusted prey.

Suddenly the night sky was lit up by a single explosion from the minefield which then led to several more explosions until a whole chain reaction started. Unfortunately for the sentry rabbit, several went off near the parked gasoline truck which then exploded into a huge fireball destroying the tower and him in the process. It would take several weeks for the overseers to finally pick up all his remnants from the surrounding area.

Nick and Finnick stood hidden in the shadows of a nearby building, stupefied but pleasantly surprised at their handiwork. Finnick had managed to cobble together a vehicle that looked like a flatbed truck run by remote control. Finnick had snuck up to the perimeter fence where he used a stolen wire cutter to cut a hole in it and pointed the vehicle towards the buried mines. He then fled back to the cover of darkness before any of the sentries noticed him. Once he had joined Nick, he powered up the small vehicle and sent it into the direction of the mines. Once the power was turned on, the vehicle continued to move forward and Finnick simply steered it towards where he intended it to go. It was a very crude construct but it was built for the sole purpose of carrying some of the smaller weights on its bed that Nick had managed to acquire from the outdoor gym. Finnick directed the remote-controlled vehicle into the minefield where he deliberately set off a mine. The free weights that Nick had stolen ricocheted onto neighboring mines to set them off in order to simulate escapees who had tried to leave. They planned to sneak under one of the patrol trucks after overpowering one of the guards that had a collar key once their overseers sent out a patrol to investigate.

Nick and Finnick did not expect that a good two-thirds of the minefield would go up along with the tower and a large chunk of the fence. It appeared that some of the shrapnel along with the superheated metal from the exploded weights had managed to penetrate the gasoline truck causing it to explode.

They later realized that they had been blessed by extraordinary luck and by the sloppiness of the workers who had built the camp. The Robinsons had been very paranoid and had purchased more than the number of mines needed. The construction crew had ended up burying all of the mines very closely together as the plantation owners preferred to use the space for food rather than incendiaries. Plus, it would have been dangerous to store them above ground in case they accidentally went off.

As the general alarm sounded, chaos ruled the camp as the many rabbit overseers attempted to put out the fires caused by the explosions. The predator barracks were in no danger because the architects had placed these in the center of the camp to better monitor their charges.

From their hiding place, Nick and Finnick watched the panicked lagomorphs running about, furiously trying to control the situation.

In the corner of Nick's eye, he spotted a lone rabbit yelling directly into her phone with a key-shaped bulge - a bulge that looked suspiciously like a master key to their collars - in her tight jeans. With Finnick following behind, he quietly made his way over to her. With one of his arms, he grabbed her mid-waist, pinning the doe’s arms to her side while he wrapped the other around the girl’s neck, squeezing until she collapsed onto the ground. He was careful not to exert too much pressure to crush her throat; only enough to cut off her air supply.

Once they liberated the key from her pocket, they bound her using the zip ties she had on her and tore part of her shirt off in order to gag her. They quickly hid her in one of the unused sheds nearby and used the key to remove their collars. They quickly made their way to the burning motor pool building where the other rabbits were rushing to get the other trucks out before the whole place burnt to the ground.

In the mass confusion, Nick and Finnick managed to commandeer one of the trucks and drove off quietly into the night. It would be well into mid-morning before they and the truck were missed.


	2. Travels, Travails and Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuing story of Nick and Finnick as they flee from the plantation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NightWolf0179: Welcome back, everyone! Our apologies for taking so long to finish this, but my co-author and I went through some speed-bumps, many of them personal. You guys can also blame school, for the most part. AP Literature sucks. I’ve done… eight essays now? But rest assured, this story will not be left unfinished. We will see it through to the end! XD
> 
> But we’ve finally finished this chapter. It is rather dark, and we may continue that theme for a while longer (so, fair warning), but I think you’d like what’ll come in the later chapters. #WildeHopps shippers, don’t turn away just yet!
> 
> Unfortunately, updates may remain a bit...sporadic. Holidays are coming up and they will keep me rather busy. Plus, I have college next year. So, that may also keep things a bit slow.
> 
> However, I will be working harder to bring these out more quickly. I am so eager to continue writing and to see what you all think of it! So… no promises, but it shouldn’t take quite as long next time. Then again, both @Jknight97 and I are perfectionists. XD
> 
> In fact…here is some motivation. From here on out, I will (and maybe J as well) respond to as many reviews as I can in later chapters. You’ll get to be mentioned! XD
> 
> That brings me to my next topic… Both J and I want to see your responses! So please, post any criticism you want to give us. We love seeing it and it helps the story! It’s also great motivation! [yeah, what he said - JKnight97 XD]
> 
> And thanks to @dancinglunarwolves for his help in bringing this out. I greatly appreciate it, man!
> 
> Alright, I’ve taken up enough of you guys’ time. We hope you enjoy!
> 
> JKnight97: First of all, my apologies to our readers and to my co-author, @NightWolf0179. RL has been keeping me very busy along with other personal issues. It took us more than a month to finalize this chapter and it continues on its rather dark theme...for now. Rest assured, both of us are avid #wildehopps shippers and their time will come. For now, the mature rating stays on for very obvious reasons into the story.
> 
> Also, fair warning to those who are following this story: updates will be sporadic with the holidays coming up and we both plan to spend a lot of time with our respective families. I can assure you that this is not going to be dumped by the wayside in the middle of the story. He and I are both perfectionists (which is why it took so long) but we’re very pleased with how this chapter came out.
> 
> Many thanks again to @dancinglunarwolves for his help with editing the story as well.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters except OCs are owned by ©Disney. Any resemblance to actual persons or mammals, living or dead, is purely coincidental. We do not own Zootopia. Do we want to? ...Perhaps… XD

 

Two beams of light pierced through a land of trees and brush, creating shafts of darkness that hid in-between the blinding cones. Insects swarmed the sources of the rays, fighting to engulf themselves in its presence as it rushed past. A roaring growl shook the earth as a large contraption of metal and fuel crushed the ground underneath, smashing and cracking stones as its large wheels flung the rocks backwards while also propelling the metal beast forwards, running away from capture.

Behind it lay a scorched memory.

"Fuck."

The mammal in the driver seat chanced a quick glance towards his friend, raising an eyebrow. “Is everyth-”

"Fuck!" the low voice came again, interrupting the other.

"Hmmm? Fin? What is it?" He was now getting worried.

A tiny body inside the metal machine suddenly shot up, pumping a fist into the air, hitting the metal above and leaving a sizable dent. "Whooo!"

Nick could only stare in disbelief. He’d never seen this kind of behavior in his friend before.

"Nick, we… we’re free! Those bastards, the-they're-we're out! They can’t catch us, we-" Finnick chanced a quick glance back at his friend only to see the biggest grin he'd ever seen on that fox's muzzle. "Oi! You better shut your trap!"

It was too much. Nick suddenly burst out laughing, barely keeping control of the truck. "Finnick, is that you? You've - ha! - you've never acted li-like that before!" He planted his face into the steering wheel as another fit of giggles escaped him. In doing so, the vehicle lurched to the side and nearly slammed into a tree. "Shit!" Nick sputtered out as he got the vehicle back in control. "Okay! Shouldn't do that. Noted."

Finnick, who was now breathing heavily, stared daggers into the fox in the driver's seat. Not even ten seconds later, a small chuckle had his muzzle smiling. Soon enough, you could not even hear the truck's engine as the two foxes in the cabin went hysterical with laughter.

It was Nick who spoke after the laughter died down. "We're free."

"Hell yeah, we are."

"Victory fist bump?" The taller fox asked.

"…Just one," he relented and fist bumped his comrade.

"I can't believe it. We actually did it. We're not dead."

“I just hope it’ll stay that way. Eyes on the road, Nick, at all times.”

“Okay, _dad_. Gotta admit, I’m doing well even despite my lack of lessons.”

“You’re driving an automatic. Give you a car with a gear shift and clutch, you’d get nowhere.”

“Pft, it’s not like you’ve driven anything before. C’mon, give me this one victory.”

“You didn’t even read the driving manual I swiped for you!”

“Actually, I did. I read half of it before I was nearly caught with the damn thing, remember? How was I supposed to know a new guard was coming around the corner? If I would’ve stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen my face and I’d be _dead_. We’re lucky he only saw a silhouette.”

“Could've kept the manual on you.”

“And risk getting our beds searched? No, leaving it there for him to find was the best option. And anyway, I did get to the part where it explained how to drive a manual.”

“And the part that says to never let your dumb eyes leave the road?”

Nick playfully thumped Finnick on the shoulder. “Yes, I’m sorry. Though, I haven’t gotten us killed so far. Give me that, at least?”

“Hmph… fine.” he groaned in an exaggerated manner. “I’m driving next.”

“Sure you can reach the pedals? Most rabbits are taller than you, bud.”

“Nick, I swear to God, now you’re pushing it.”

Chuckling, Nick relented. “Alright, alright. You can drive next.” Looking at the passing turns, he felt a surge of what can only be described as freedom. He— _they_ —could now go wherever they wanted. The world was theirs to explore. “Where to, Fin?”

Finnick reached into the space behind his seat and pulled out their old collars and a map. While unfolding it, he looked at a passing street sign and found that they were on a country road called Wispy Pass. On the map, he pinpointed where they were. "Take that left and pull over."

"You are properly following the directions on that map, right? And the indirect route?"

Finnick grunted in response, “Of course I am. Didcha think I'm dumber than you?”

It was enough for Nick, so he did what was asked of him. With his nightvision, he found a small clearing over to his left and drove into it. The clearing itself was rather well hidden. Only a small path indicated its presence, the immense number of trees blocking the site itself made it rather difficult to spot.

"Why are we stopping? We’re still too close to the Robinsons."

"Got some stuff to take care of. Shut the engine off."

“What’s this about?” Nick asked as the engine sputtered to sleep. It was now pitch black inside the truck’s cabin, save for the light coming from the dim display of a tablet that served to track the truck’s position.

"Well… we need to destroy this truck's GPS," he pointed to the unit, "and… I need to do something."

Alright," Nick grunted as he opened the door. "But we got to get back on the road soon."

"Yeah, yeah, _mom_."

While Finnick worked at tearing out the navigational instrument from the dashboard, Nick stepped out and stretched his muscles. The moon was out, he noticed, but only half of it. He remembered learning about the cycles of the moon when he was just a little kit, but it was so long ago that he could not remember a single detail. With his life being reduced to slavery for so long, those little tidbits of information drifted out of his memory. It was more important to learn things that would aid in an escape attempt and that would aid in setting up their future in a new home. The moon was amongst the least of their worries.

Once the little fox finished his task, he made his way around the truck with the GPS unit and the collars in paw, much to Nick’s surprise. “ _Why would he bring the collars?_ ” he thought.

“See that boulder?" Finnick pointed. "We need to get rid of these things using that."

“Alright.” Nick began stepping towards the boulder, slightly ahead of Finnick.

"You know, I've been wondering…what are we going to do after all this is over? Once we get out of Zootopia?"

Nick scratched his muzzle, giving the question some thought. There was not an easy answer to that. In the camp, they had very little resources to research the lands outside of Zootopia with. The only way to do so was to swipe a smartphone from a dozing guard or a forgetful kit and hope that the phone was not password protected. The few times it wasn't, they had found out that the internet of Zootopia was plagued with internet blocks and propaganda to a nauseating degree. There was no information on their internet about the laws of any other country outside of their own. It baffled the foxes. How was anyone okay with this? It was obvious that certain information was being kept from Zootopia’s citizens. The foxes could not be the only ones to think that, right?

The only bit of information they were able to find was the route they needed to take to get from place to place. Everything else was useless.

Thankfully, a couple months back, some rabbits came back from a trip that led them to Deerbrooke. While they described their journey, Nick hid behind a wall and found out that predators did not wear collars back in that country. They could also walk freely and own property.

Apparently, that left the traveling rabbits terrified for most of the trip.

"My money's still on Deerbrooke. We head there and make a living."

"How will we? I'm good with putting crap together, but no one will let me work on any of their stuff; I ain’t got certifications."

"There's always a way.”

Once they reached the boulder, Finnick placed the items onto it and grabbed a smaller rock that seemed almost as big as him. "You'd think they'd have a hammer in that truck,” he grunted.

Nick only shrugged and watched as his companion repeatedly slammed the stone down onto the tablet and collar until they no longer resembled the objects that they were. He then picked up as many remnants of them as he could--while also being mindful of the swelling batteries--and threw them as far as they could go. "Here," he quietly said, handing him the stone.

The taller fox took it and kneeled down, looking closely at the collar that had held an iron grip over his throat for years. Until now, he had never been able to closely look at the prongs on the collar. There were at least sixteen of them, and a few even had a few strands of crimson fur burnt onto them.

The light on his collar was now a pulsing red, growing dull until it surged back to full vibrancy.

Nick first aimed for the light, swiftly bringing the stone down until the tiny blip of red was snuffed out, blinking its last. He then turned his focus to the prongs, slamming his weapon onto each one until they were all wildly bent, sending a few sparks scattering into the grass below. Finally, with all his strength, he brought the stone down onto the location on the collar that he knew held the motherboard, denting the metal until he was sure that it was destroyed.

The task finished, he took the corpse of the tool that had caused him so much pain and threw it directly at the moon, making it land somewhere in the distance for the ground to reclaim.

"Yo, Nick?" The fennec's voice shook him out of his daze. "You okay?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” asked the taller fox.

“You're panting," the fennec said, pointing to his own muzzle, “and you have a wild look in your eyes.”

With a barely perceptible nod, Nick attempted to get his breathing back to normal. The two stood in silence for a bit, feeling the gentle breeze ruffle their fur.

  
"Can you remember what it felt like to not have a collar on?"

The smaller of the two crawled onto the boulder and laid down with his eyes closed. "Don't matter," he breathed out, "I'm feeling it now."

"Just… I'm trying to remember that time. That life." Nick sat next to Finnick, breathing in the chill in the air and the dampness of the world around him. The moisture began to cling to his fur, gathering in small droplets here and there with the moon reflecting within them. "I cherish that time, but I can’t remember it."

Finnick rose up and placed his paw on Nick's shoulder. With a somber look, he said, "Keep trying to remember. It'll come to you." He sighed. "Time to go."

…

It was impossible for either of them to get any sleep that night. With the GPS tracking the truck, they needed to put as much distance between them and the Robinsons as possible. Its location would most certainly be made known to the local authorities once their former owners discovered a company truck was missing. Their electronic trail would be as evident as pawprints on freshly fallen snow due to the on-board GPS before they had disposed of it. Even if that was not a concern, they were still riding a high from the escape that would've made any attempt at sleeping completely futile.

As such, the two were still bubbling with energy as the sun started its morning ascent in the east. Claws tapped on windows, songs were sung in horribly off-tune voices, games of mind-numbing I-Spy were played, and plans were discussed.

It became too much for Nick to bear. After a little fumbling with the radio--he had never used one before--he was able to get it onto a station. Unfortunately for them, no music played from it; he had found a morning talk show.

"-lcome back to the early riser edition of Radio Prey, the best place to get a news refresher in your morning hours before our tunes begin!” The groans that came from the foxes were loud and long. “First off, the Capital has expressed an interest in expanding the Climate Walls into the countryside, even all the way into our Harrisonburg. Remember the day when temperatures reached into the high forties? Pretty dreadful, right?

“Well, if we allow them to use our predators for free to help build the Climate Walls, we may never again be cooked alive in our own homes! So be sure to head on over to the Capital’s website and submit a number of your predators for the construction. Please, I have way too much fur to deal with that kind of heat!"

Nick leaned back with a scowl while Finnick gripped the steering wheel a bit tightly. They expected music, not some annoying prey's voice complaining about the heat. They both had had to mend a road that day with no shade whatsoever. It was by some miracle they hadn’t withered away due to heat stroke.

And they knew that if they had stayed at the Robinson’s, they would most likely be part of the building crew for the new Climate Walls. Knowing that they would not have to endure that suffering was a small relief to them both.

They were about to change the radio to a different station, but the radio host caught their attention with the mention of their personal home in Hell. "In other news, the Robinson family of Clearwater has now been recognized as one of Zootopia's largest suppliers of cheap labour! The Robinsons have trained and disciplined their foxes so well that they have earned a personal visit from some representatives of the Capital! Be sure to congratulate them! They deserve it!

"Like I've always said, even all the way out here, you can be recognized by the Capital for your efforts! And what's a better way to boost your own productivity than to buy some more workers? In three days' time, there will be a Slave Auction held by the Harrison County Town Hall."

Nick's eyes widened upon hearing that, looking to Finnick in the driver's seat. Their fur stood on end as they tried to fight away their memories of the day they became property.

"And if you email our studio, you'll receive a printable coupon for one hundred dollars off your next purchase of three slaves or more! Do not miss this opportunity; we're not always this generous!" The host had a light chuckle. "Seriously, you should check them out. There are quite a few wolves available; even some that are already fixed. For those of you that do not want to sell any small, fluffy pelts or just simply do not want to deal with the loss of a worker for some time, you should consider this opportunity.

"They also have otters for a cheap price, a few female lions, and even a couple foxes. Though… I’m not sure why anyone would buy a fox nowadays… the disease-ridden pelts are not worth a damn. Honestly, I’m surprised the Robinsons still have foxes. I cannot believe how difficult it must be for them. Sure, they’re doing well for themselves… but damn, wouldn’t wolves be better? Otters, even? I mean, c’mon, everyone knows the old saying: ‘The only good fox is a dead fox!’ But whatever. If you want ‘em, you can grab ‘em here. And you better hurry; there is only one major fox breeder still standing, and I hear they are closing their doors soon. In fact, there are not many foxes left _anywhere_ in the world. And if you ask me, that’s gre-” the voice faded out as Nick turned the volume down.

"Th-that can't be true. No."

"What do you expect, Nick? For them to just keep us around, especially after the rabies outbreak last year?"

"Ah, yes, 'rabies',” Nick sardonically said as he air-quoted with his digits. “I refuse to believe that foxes were the only species affected. Rabies does not discriminate!"

Finnick eased the pressure he was putting on the accelerator and leaned his head into his paw, pressing his thumb into his skull. "Don't matter what you think. You know we're just 'a pandemic waiting to happen'."

Nick squirmed in his seat, trying his best to get comfortable while also being in a position that blocked the Sun from hurting his eyes. Frustrated, he flipped the visor down to shield his eyes, causing a pair of aviator sunglasses to fall into his lap. “Huh,” he muttered, putting them on.

In that moment, Nick’s perspective of the world darkened. The strain on his eyes immediately left and everything felt calmer, less aggressive. He wished he had a pair sooner. As a fox, his eyes were naturally more sensitive.

“Really, Nick?” Finnick asked, having noticed the eyewear now on Nick’s muzzle.

“What? They help!”

"Yeah… and now you look like an asshole.”

Nick stuck his tongue out at Finnick.

Trying to get back on subject, Finnick said, “At least we won’t have to watch another kit lose itself to slavery."

“I suppose that is a silver lining, as the expression goes. But still… let’s hope there are enough foxes in other countries to keep the species going. Surely that radio host isn’t right… I certainly don’t want to be part of one of the last fox generations.” When his best friend did not respond, Nick shook his head and turned up the volume of the radio with a flick of the wrist, hoping to find some music. “ _The radio host should be done by now_ ,” he thought.

For a moment, a slow, pleasant piano plucked at their ears with a soft voice enchanting their minds, singing about love and how it is sometimes found in the most unexpected of places. That pleasantness did not last. The truck's speakers squealed as a loud beep tore at the ears of the predators trapped inside, jolting them from their relaxed positions. A robotic voice then came through, sounding like a female's voice that was recorded poorly and then shoved through damaged speakers while also being recorded for the second time. "This is an emergency broadcast. The Robinson family of Clearwater has lost two of their slaves: a red fox by the name of Nicholas Wilde, early twenties; and a fennec fox by the name of Cornelius Tihkoosue, also early twenties. They stole a 2016 Hino 117 box truck belonging to produce supplier, Paragon Whole Foods, license plate A113F00D. It is likely traveling through Bunnyburrow. Call your local police department if you have any details regarding their location. They may be armed and dangerous. Independent capture is preferred, but elimination is also authorized. The deaths or capture of these dangerous savages will provide comfort to Zootopia and its lands. Fair hunting."

Now, you'd think that would cause concern to two escaped slaves, and it did, but what hung more heavily on their minds, particularly Nick's, was what that terribly robotic voice had called the now wide-eyed fennec fox beside him.

As slaves, they were assigned numbers instead of names. It de-mammalized them and made things easier on their masters. As a result, if you wanted to know the name of a fellow slave, you'd have to ask and hope they were truthful. Finnick never gave an answer and was just called Fennec because of his species. One night that changed. While Nick was learning the basics of ' _hiding in dark corners with a 'borrowed' textbook in paw in order to educate oneself_ ,' he came across a character in a short story he was reading that was named 'Finnick.' Thus, fennec became Finnick.

But now he knew his real name.

Finnick tried to stop Nick, he really did. He gave the taller fox the best glare he could come up with and even threatened bodily harm. But alas, it was a futile effort. Nick looked right into Finnick's— _Cornelius'_ —eyes for a more couple seconds before he doubled over with the most high-pitched laugh to ever escape his muzzle. He laughed so hard his sides began to hurt.

Finnick reached over and ripped the dancing Meowna bunny hula doll off the top of the dashboard and flung it at Nick, hitting him directly on his arm, making him flinch and stopping his laughter. “Ow! Seriously!”

“That name never leaves this truck! Got that?”

Nick leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “Well, I’m sowwy,” he said derisively. “Never told us your name to begin with.”

“It ain’t none of your business!”

“First, Fin, that’s a double negative. Second, there’s more to it, then? Not just embarrassment, eh?” Nick sighed, getting a clearer picture. “Okay, I really am sorry. I didn’t know. If it’s personal to you, I won’t bring it up again.” Leaning down, Nick picked up the doll from under his seat

“It is, so you better not.” Slowly breathing out, Finnick muttered, “You’re not an ass like some of the other foxes back there, I suppose. They'd just keep going.” That earned him a playful shove.

“You suppose? Fin, I’m a saint!”

“Yeah, when pigs fly,” the fennec chuckled.

“Hey, that’s offensive to pigs,” he laughed with him. “Besides, I heard they just started to recruit them for their air force.”

A moment passed before he spoke again. “Do you miss them?”

“...Yeah.”

“There’s got to be a way to break them out.”

“Nick… how?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. But we can figure something out...together.”

“Do you need your head checked?” Finnick turned to Nick. “Do you remember how difficult it was for us to get out? We’re only two foxes!”

“They deserve a better life. I’d like to give them a chance.”

“You'll get yourself killed if you tried that. Hell, we can _still_ be killed!”

“It won’t be just me. Surely someone up at Deerbrooke would want to help.”

“Seriously, your optimism will kill you someday.”

“So be it,” he grumbled. “I just want to try. I’m no more deserving of happiness than they are.”

Finnick turned back in his seat and leaned back. He looked at the dashboard with a heavy sigh. “Hey, we’re starting to get low on fuel.”

“Well,” Nick said, taking the map from his pocket and unfolding it. “we’ll be in the woods for a while longer. If I’m correct, we can ditch the truck in a couple hours.”

“Sure.”

“When we do, I’m going to go foraging. I’m getting hungry.”

“Please do not get started on food. I’m trying to not think about it.”

“Heh, for such a little guy, you eat a lot.”

“ _Little_ guy? You _want_ to get hurt, huh?”

Nick chuckled and then looked out the window, watching as the trees blurred past.

Considering the region they were in, it was inevitable for them to begin traveling up a mountain. There would be breaks between the trees every now and then, giving both foxes a view of the increasingly mountainous landscape around them. Nick noticed they looked almost fluffy from a distance. The leaves resembled green cotton.

The sky also appeared more pleasing. No longer was it a symbol of openness and freedom that was out of reach. Instead, it now gave him hope. He had acquired freedom. Now he just needed to keep it.

The clouds also seemed to have a different quality. They resonated with him much more than before; so much so that his mind began picking out clouds that resembled something. One cluster looked like a house, for example, and another looked like a feather.

There was even one that looked nearly identical to a rabbit. That normally would’ve repulsed him, but this time he found himself looking at that cloud more than the rest, memorizing it. The cloud-bunny had an innocence and beauty that he could not put his claw on… he could not ignore it.

The cloud took up his mind, easing his worries and softly drooping eyes. It was the last thing he saw before his emerald eyes retreated blissfully into sleep.

…

The truck’s lulling vibrations sputtered out, the stillness waking Nick from his slumber. Finnick had driven it deep into the woods the moment their fuel reserves began running short. After Finnick had some rest, they set upon the next leg of their journey on-paw, foraging for whatever food and water they could find.

The library at the camp had been very sparse; filled mostly with technical references. Surprisingly, they had found a Junior Ranger Scouts book and committed much of it to memory. They knew what berries to touch, what bugs to stay away from, what vegetables to grab, what actions to take to start a fire, and so on. While they were not getting exactly what they needed--foxes having specific dietary requirements like all other mammals--they were at least not starving. They could survive like that for a bit without having to take more drastic measures. The bugs really helped. Both foxes enjoyed them well enough, and they provided most of their dietary protein.

Their main issue was direction. It was quite easy to get turned around in the middle of a forest devoid of landmarks. This caused them to stick close to roads. Nick, having the brighter fur and being the tallest, usually followed Finnick from off to the side, letting the smaller fox get closer to whatever road they were following and lead them both. He was the least likely to be seen even though they still both wore the yellow jumpsuits from the plantation. They also tried to follow roads that would eventually lead them to bodies of water.

Luckily for them, it rained several times over their first week of traveling. Even if they went a day or two without finding a creek or lake, there were usually a lot of puddles to drink from. It was certainly not their preferred source of water, but when you’re running from mammals who want to capture and kill you--most of them willing to skip the first step--dignity took a back seat.

That was how Nick saw it, at least.

“Hey, we’re coming near a clearing. And… is that a light?”

“Yep… that’s another home.” Knowing what Finnick was going to say next, Nick quickly added, “And, no.”  
  
“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“We are not going to take any bottles of water from them.”

“You can’t be serious!”

Nick climbed up a small hill that better overlooked the house. He wanted to continue walking past it and not be caught by some prey animal. It was nighttime, yes, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “I’m perfectly fine with drinking from lakes. We’ve been doing it for a week now, Fin. What’s gotten into you?”

“What happens if we don’t find a lake, huh? I’m tired of worrying about dehydration.”

“We’ll never be too far from a town once we get into Bunnyburrow. If we get that desperate, _then_ we can begin stealing. But I am _not_ stealing from innocent mammals if we’re perfectly fine.”

“What do you mean ‘innocent’! You don’t know that! And this is only one house, not a town full of them. We’re more likely to be caught stealing there than we are from this house. It’s alone out here!” Finnick began grinding his teeth. “I just want to have one less thing to worry about. And remember that stream we almost drank out of?”

“The one with the sewage pipe?”

Finnick nodded. “What if we had drunk from it? What if we do make that mistake? Getting sick will kill us! And it’s peace of mind, Nick. We have enough to deal with. And can you even call that stealing?”

“Yes.”

“Nick!” Before he yelled any louder, the fennec began breathing more slowly to calm himself down. “Just give me five minutes. Just five, and I’ll only take four bottles; two for each of us.”

“Do you really want to risk this? We’ve been lucky so far.”

“Dehydration is not something I’d want to test our luck against.”

Nick gave it some thought. “Fine... but only if you fill up two of them, not all four! We’ll refill the empties from a nearby stream. The longer you’re in there, the more likely I’ll have to come save your stupid ass. Ouch!” Finnick gave him an enthusiastic punch on his arm and began snaking his way through the trees and towards the house. Nick shook his head and followed.

The house was a quaint little thing. Only one story, it looked insignificant compared to the trees towering behind it. In front of it was a gravel path that led to the road the foxes were traveling along. Surrounding it was rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, enough to feed a decently-sized town of prey for a week.

Finnick dove into the blueberry bushes, using them as cover. Nick was right behind, but instead of continuing with the fennec, he decided to keep a lookout for trouble. Plus… he had never eaten blueberries before.

Quietly, he plucked one off of the nearest bush and dropped it into his mouth. The fruit celebrated in his maw, assaulting his tongue with a sweet and dazzling harshness. It surprised him. He expected something much milder and calming. But this… he had to have more; it was like the berries were calling to him. Recovering from his initial shock, he grabbed a pawful and savored the blue orbs one-by-one, each one bursting with flavour in his mouth as his teeth tore into it.

The moment came to an end too quickly. Two hyena cubs wearing slave collars burst from the front door with a male kudu following behind, desperately trying to catch them.

Nick’s eyes followed the cubs as they sprinted down the gravel path. “Shit!” the kudu yelled, falling to his knees as his chest quickly rose and fell as he gasped for air. “Get back here, pelts! When I get my paws on you, I’ll-” a sharp zapping sound cut him off, and the two hyenas slumped to the ground. A squad of prey mammals emerged from the treeline, two of them reloading their stun guns. A zebra broke off from a squad of four, cuffed them both and dragged them back to the kudu.

Nick was thinking of interfering, but something caught his eye, drawing his gaze towards the objects. Light was glinting off something attached to each of their bodies. Holstered to the each of the prey’s side, reflecting the light from the house, was a pistol. If Nick were to try anything, he’d likely get shot if not tasered first. As much as the fox wanted to help, now was not the time. But he continued to watch, waiting for an opportunity.

“Sir?” the zebra said, taking off a pair of night vision goggles. “Joshua Haughton, Predator Patrol. These yours?” he shoved the cubs in front of him.

“Uh, yes, they are. Need identification papers?”

“No need. Just tell me your name.”

“Oh. Uh, Caleb Cortez,” the kudu answered quickly. “And no, never before.”

Nick slowly crept to the edge of the blueberry bushes while the sound of crunching gravel hid his movements; the wife of the male kudu had finally come out.

She also brought two paw-shackled adult hyenas out wearing slave collars as well, but tied them to the front porch’s support beams so that they couldn’t try anything. “Thank you, sir. But why are you here? We didn’t call Predator Patrol. We never get any problems with preds here.” She recognized the zebra’s uniform, having seen members of the Predator Patrol a few times while heading to town.

Their uniform was actually quite distinctive. Colored a subdued red, it stood out very well. It also looked much like a military officer’s uniform, complete with a black cap and gold trim. It also had the black and white patch of the Predator Patrol.

“Have you seen the news? There are two escaped slaves heading to Bunnyburrow. A few days ago we found the vehicle they stole ditched inside the forest. We have reason to believe that they may be in this area, based on their speed and direction. We’ve found the remains of their campsites. Seen them? They’re foxes.”

Nick cursed under his breath as he stayed frozen in his hiding spot amongst the bushes.

“Sorry, sir, got nothing for ya’s.”

“No harm done. Just call us if you happen to see or hear anything.” He pulled out his pistol and inspected it. “Back to the matter at hoof. Those two… hyenas?” Caleb nodded. “Are they the parents of these two?”

This time, the Mrs. Cortez answered. “Yeah. Bought ‘em o’er ten years ago.”

“Well, looks like none of your slaves really know their place. This will not be the last escape attempt if you don’t teach them properly.” He gave the pistol to the male kudu.

“Uh… Officer?”

“Shoot the girl. She's older, right? And the boy was following her, letting her take the lead. Teach him and his parents obedience, submission. We’ll compensate you with the money to replace her.” His men visibly flinched when they heard that, but otherwise remained silent.

Nick’s eyes widened upon hearing that. He needed to get them out of there. The fox could not take any more death. However, his paws refused to obey his commands as he stayed rooted in place.

“Sir, I-I don’t think that’s ne-necessary.” Caleb shakily held the pistol, being sure to aim at the ground.

“It’ll happen again otherwise.”

“I… I’ve never k-killed anyone before…” The kudu never liked predators, they were inferior savages, but they had their uses and did not deserve to die. He would most definitely punish the boy and girl, probably by cutting a tendon on one of their hind-paws so that they could not run off again, but he did not want to kill them. As much as he found predators disgusting, they were still forms of life.

“Okay, mister stutterer,” scorned the zebra, “I’m tired of this. Shoot the girl.”

“But-”

“Do it!” snarled the zebra.

Caleb raised the gun towards the girl, the firearm shaking in his unstable grasp. With his eyes closed, he attempted to aim the gun, muttering to himself but his tremors had the barrel pointed everywhere except at the two cubs.

The cubs’ eyes widened as the gun jittered and jerked in the grasp of their owner. They began trying to pull away from the zebra, using every ounce of strength they had to free themselves.

“Fuck it,” muttered the zebra as he ripped the gun out of the kudu’s hooves. “Can’t send a boy to do a man’s job.” He aimed the gun at the head of the girl hyena and snarled at the trembling kudu. “This is how you treat insolent pelts.” as he pointed the barrel of the gun against her head.

The girl cub, Liza, was terrified. She had momentarily tasted freedom, a new life, when she had burst through those doors. But now, the cold barrel of a gun was shoving its way through her fur as it pressed against her skull.

Her thoughts went to her brother, Andrew. They were usually separated from their parents, so to him, his sister was the light of his life, just as he was for hers. She was his protector, his guardian whenever he was in trouble. She took the hardest the jobs and the cruelest punishments, even the ones that were meant for the boy. Each time he made a mistake, Liza would take the blame and the pain from the punishment just so that her brother wouldn’t have to. She couldn’t stand to see him hurt.

Liza didn’t even cry in his presence. She had only done that once in her life, and it caused tears to also flow from her brother’s eyes. She had vowed to never be the cause of his tears ever again.

But now, she was going to die. Andrew wouldn’t have her. His sister, his best friend, his guardian, his everything. He’d have to grow up alone, rarely seeing his parents and never again seeing his sister. He’d sleep alone, eat alone, work alone, cry alone. The cub would truly be alone for the first time in his life, alone without a light to lead him.

Their mother and father were screaming, insulting the officer with every zebra slur imaginable. She was pulling at the rope wrapped around the pole she was tied to, making the wood groan with every pull. The father growled and smashed his teeth into his rope, trying to tear apart every thin strand but with his filed teeth, it was a futile effort.

Andrew felt his heart drop when the zebra’s hoof inched a little closer to a button on the side of the gun. That was the trigger--specifically designed for hoofed mammals--that would end his sister’s life.

Memories flashed through his mind. Of hugs and kisses from his parents. Of wet tears and and cold noses during nights in bed. And most important of all, memories of his sister’s love flashed before his eyes.

In an instant, he moved to push his sister to the side, just as he heard the word ‘now’ and ‘no’ pierce his ears.

“Now!” the officer said, his breath almost taken away by the boy’s sudden charge that took his arm with him.

A sharp crack lit the area around each mammal, a plume of fire and smoke leaving the barrel of the pistol. Two mammals crumpled to the ground; one gravely injured, one under the other, their clothing stained with red.

“Fuck!” said the zebra as he shook his head. “Well, one of them’s dead anyway. Looks like the boy had more spirit anyway so all the better for us, eh, farmer?”

The male kudu could only look on helplessly in horror at the sight of the two sprawled bodies in his front yard. The young female looked unhurt as her brother had provided the ultimate sacrifice of love by shielding her from the bullet meant to kill her. She began to wail as she rocked the lifeless body of her sibling in her arms. Her parents began to howl in sadness at the loss of their child.

“Shut them up!” yelled the zebra. The female kudu began to drag the two unresisting adults away back into the farmhouse as the male kudu approached the young female to quiet her before he lost another slave to the hot-headed equid. He gathered her into his arms as she sobbed helplessly against him, seeking consolation.

The zebra sneered at the sight. “You a predator sympathizer, farmer?”

The kudu looked up in shock. “No, sir! It’s just that she’s young-”

“Don’t care, farmer, but we can definitely overlook your actions here tonight if, say…” he paused as he evaluated the situation. Leering at the farmer, he leaned over and said in a low voice, “She’ll be of breeding age in about six months, right?”

The farmer wordlessly nodded, wondering where the line of questioning was leading to.

“Well then,” rubbing his hooves in satisfaction, “I’ll come back in a year and you’re going to give me one of her offspring to be my own pet. You do that and we don’t have to report this incident tonight to the Council, am I clear?”

“But I can’t afford the stud fees!” gasped the farmer, “I barely make enough to pay the taxes that the Council imposes on us.”

“Listen here, farmer,” growled the zebra as he grabbed the male kudu by the front of his shirt, “I don’t care if you have her own father impregnate her. You get it done or else you’re the one who’s going to the stockade for being a sympathizer!”

With that, the zebra let go of the kudu’s shirt and strode out the front gate. As he got in the jeep along with the three other prey mammals, he called back to the farmer, “Remember! A year from now!” as they sped away down the road.

Nick stood, petrified. He began hyperventilating, barely keeping quiet enough all the while losing his balance as he crumpled to the ground. His eyes were immediately covered by a blurry layer of tears.

A few minutes later, Finnick emerged from the back door, carrying a couple bottles of water. He had watched the entire scene unfold from behind one of the upstairs windows, and it took all of his strength not to explode in anger.

Coming up to the blueberry bushes, he found Nick curled up in a ball, his eyes squint shut. “Nick,” he started quietly, gently shaking him. The only response he got was a strained whimper. “C’mon, Nick!” he whispered fiercely. “I know…but we gotta get outta here.”

Curling himself up even tighter, the tod refused to listen to his companion. Nothing reached his ears, nothing except for the whimpers of the young female out in the yard.

“I swear! Get up!” Finnick insisted. He pulled him up and started yanking him towards the treeline. Once amidst the trees, the foxes ran. They ran faster than they ever had, longer than they ever had. Their bodies burned, their muscles long past their breaking point. It didn’t take much longer before the foxes collapsed, their chests heaving, their tears turning the dirt underneath them into small puddles of mud.


	3. A Beacon in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A refuge from their perilous journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKnight97: Greetings to all that have been following our story! Our sincerest apologies to all our readers as both NightWolf0179 and I have been super caught up with RL. Although we promised you some fluff in this chapter (okay, I promised you so stop throwing things...sheesh), the plot development meant that this would have to take a backseat for now. Rest assured, this story has not been forgotten. It’s just going to be a long time in between chapters especially since my good friend has recently been accepted into the college of his choice and I’m in the final stretches of my online course for Creative Writing.
> 
> School has finally ended for him. I’ve kinda settled into my new place (more or less; I still have more boxes to unpack). Which means we’re going to try to sneak in a few more chapters before he goes off to university.
> 
> That said, I hope you will enjoy this third installment and as always, we appreciate your honest feedback.
> 
> NightWolf0179: Okay, so, I’m sure you are all tired of excuses, so… I’m going to be quick. XD
> 
> Life likes to throw curve balls and changes up everything. Went to New York, got accepted into college, started hating myself for taking AP Literature and College Algebra… you get it. (Man, I miss elementary school. So easy. Anyone else? XD) I truly am sorry, and I understand that I say it a lot. I keep expecting life to… not wreck my plans. But then it does and I have no control over it. XD
> 
> I truly feel guilty over promising quick updates only to leave you all hanging for so long. 
> 
> That being said, I love this story and those of you who are following it. It’s terrifying to have your work be put up for all to see, but for some reason, you all seem to like what JKnight97 and I have done here. And that is why I’m making this story my number one priority over the summer (Okay, number two priority. College dictates my future after all, so I need it to take the number one spot. XD). I can probably get an hour of writing done each day or every couple of days, so I’ll aim for that. Now… I’ve learned my lesson, I can’t promise anything. Life hates plans, it seems. But I’ll do my best. We’ll do our best. And for sticking around, I promise the next chapters will be worth the wait. Fluff? Angst? Tragedy? You will see! The anticipation!
> 
> And feel free to review. Feedback greatly helps us. You can even complain about the wait times between chapters. I understand. XD
> 
> Alright! Enjoy!

The events of that night never lost them. Anytime their minds began to yet again focus on what had transpired, both swore they could feel an iron grip squeezing their lungs, almost suffocating them in otherwise clean air. Their ears would then begin to ring with the bang of that single gunshot.

For Nick, the worst came in the form of nightmares. Each night, Nick was transported back to that one moment in time. Nothing would change. The dream was identical to the real thing. The blood was sickeningly-fresh, pooling the dirt into a warmly-crimson mud. The tiny lights reflecting off the dead-eyes glowed with an intensity of an individual that hadn't died nights prior; their death being renewed again and again. The crumpling of a body rumbled the ghostly, dreamy earth as if it were the real thing. It seemed all too real. Each time Nick's body succumbed to fatigue, he'd relive the moment yet again. He never merely watched it. He suffered through it as if it was in the present.

In his waking hours, Nick didn’t show the pain he was feeling. Only the bags under his eyes implied at the torrent of emotions running through him. Besides that, he was his normal self.

Finnick didn’t change. He remained the angry little mammal that Nick had come to know after all these years. He wondered if Finnick was always like that.

The two of them took more precautions as they made their way to the border of Deerbrooke. They knew they had to cross through Bunnyburrow and Podunk before they reached a safe haven. They continued to travel through the forest at night and slept high up in the trees in the mornings to avoid bumping into the Predator Patrol.

Ever since the incident at the farm, they dared not go near any civilized dwelling. However, from time to time, they longed for a decent hot cooked meal. Sneaking into any of the prey-owned farms was avoided at all costs as they did not want to alert the PP about their presence. Suffice to say, their nerves were frayed and on edge two weeks after they had escaped from the plantation.

“Cripes, Nick! Berries again! I’m craving for a hot bugburger sandwich right now along with a cold bottle of beer!’ snapped Finnick as he lost his temper for the third day in a row.

“Bugburger? Cold beer? When did you get a chance to taste those? Have you been holding out on me, Fin?”

“Nuddin’ like that,” muttered the fennec. “Just...remembered when I was younger...my parents were alive...we were at an amusement park and my dad treated me to one. He even let me have some of his beer. I was in heaven,” he wistfully sighed, mouth watering at the memory. “It was one of the few good times we had as a family.”

Nick sympathized with his friend’s outburst, placing a paw on the fennec’s shoulder. “If we tried to sneak food out of some farmhouse, you know they’re going to report the break-in and that will alert the slave-catchers to our presence here. Besides, you think I like eating vegan all the time?”

Finnick irritably shrugged off his paw. “We could sneak into some town and get some grub there. Nobody’ll notice a few missing cans from the grocery shelves!” hissed the fennec.

His angry retort choked off mid-growl, Nick suddenly smelled an unknown mammal’s scent coming their way. They had been traveling on a well-marked forest path which had made Nick nervous using it, but it did allow them to travel much faster than trying to blaze a new one through the thick undergrowth. The sun had already set, and he did not expect any prey to be out so late as they were not equipped to see at night. He quickly signalled Finnick to climb the nearest tree as he did the same.

From their perch, they spied an otter dressed in bib overalls and a turtleneck shirt carrying a fishing rod over his shoulder with several trout hanging from it. The sight of the freshly caught fish made both foxes’ mouths water. Nick was contemplating on ambushing the smaller mammal in order to gain the delectable treat as desperate times called for desperate measures. He was, however, surprised when the otter stopped at the base of the tree and looked up. They made sure to hide behind all the leaves and branches they could.

“So, you must be the two escaped foxes we’ve heard on the news, eh? Pleasure to meet you. My names Emmitt Otterton, but you can just call me Emmitt.” Smiling softly, the otter continued, “Follow me, I’ve got a house further along the path.”

The tree-bound foxes gripped the tree even more tightly. “Follow you?” Nick growled. “Oh, sure! I’ll also just go ahead and put some cuffs on while we’re at it!”

“Nick, Finnick,” Emmitt said. Upon hearing their name, the foxes’ fur began to stand on end, their hackles rising. “I’m a predator, same as you. And here in Bunnyburrow, I can help you. I’m alone, I've got no surprises for you, I even have a nice, comfy home just up the river.” He then took a step back, giving the foxes some space. “Please. I’m on your side.”

“Yeah? And what happens after? We’re executed while you’re rewarded?”

“No. You’ll get to eat the fish you see me carrying, and you’ll get a nice, warm bed to sleep in. Free of charge and no tricks.” Waiting for a response, Emmitt set down his things and tried to catch the eyes of Nick in between the swaying leaves. Noticing that they began to whisper amongst each other, he spoke up again, softly. “Look, I understand. In prey-controlled land, there are not many folks you can trust. So many would rather see you dead in a ditch than out walking free. I get it. And nothing I will say will be enough to earn your trust. But what if…” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a large hunting knife and left it at the base of the tree, “I gave you something you could use against me, should I get ideas?” The otter then pulled the rest of his pockets, showing he had nothing of use in them. “Whaddya say?”

Quickly clambering down, Finnick snatched up the knife, the blade glinting in the dying light. “I’d say you’re an idiot, and that I owe ya, _if_ you’re being real here.” The otter merely grinned as he waited for the taller of the two to climb down.  


* * *

  
As the trio walked single-file along the path, the foxes kept the otter in-between them. Finnick remained in the back, using a leafy branch tied to his tail to brush away the prints they were making in the dirt as they walked. He also kept the knife to his side, ready to use it should the need arise. Nick tried to appear casual and distracted as he led the way, following the otter’s directions.

As the otter’s cottage came into view, he moved to the front of the line. “Welcome to the Otterton family hotel! It’s forty dollars a night, bedding and breakfast included.”

Feeling a little less uneasy, Nick joked, “Emmitt, at this point, I’d just tell you that I'll pay in the morning and then high-tail it before you wake up.”

The otter grunted in an amused manner and ushered them towards the door. “Then be glad this isn’t a hotel.”

Upon entering the house from the rear, Emmitt called out: “Olivia, I’m home! And we have two guests with us. Please set the table for them.”

“Alright, dear. Any luck at the river?” a female voice called back.

“Caught a couple of beauties for dinner. I’ll go clean them and bring them into the kitchen.”

Emmitt indicated with his head for the two to follow him to the adjacent room next to the rear entrance. It was a small dimly lit room with a sink and a wooden cutting board. He hung his coat up on a hook near the entrance and rolled up his sleeves. He began to fillet the fish, expertly removing most of the bones and innards and scraping off most of the scales. Once he was done, he washed the fish, dried them on some paper towels and seasoned them with salt and pepper.

The two foxes were practically drooling at the sight and smell of fresh fish. Nick was tempted to eat one raw, but he had no idea if he would have been able to even keep it down. Besides, he didn’t want to impose on their host, who didn’t seem afraid of having them around.

When he was done, the otter indicated with his head to follow him into the house as he carried the plate of fish. He whistled a little tune as he entered the kitchen, one that Nick didn’t recognize. He thought it odd since he had an eidetic memory when it came to songs.

“Here are the fish, Liv,” Emmitt said to the female otter who was wearing a white blouse with a high collar at the stove, “all seasoned and ready for you to cook into a delicious meal. And by the way, let me introduce you to Nick and Finnick.”

“Ma’am, it’s pleasure to meet you.” Nick bowed at the waist courteously.

“‘Sup?” said Finnick, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his pants.

“Boys, this is my wife, Olivia, the light of my life and the mistress of the house. What she says, goes, right Liv?” smirked the otter as he hooked his arm around her waist.

“Well, I say that you three go wash up and get out of my fur while I finish cooking dinner,” she smiled as she swatted away his paw as it attempted to reach for her rear. “Nice to meet you, boys. Emmitt, see if you can break out some of your special hooch for our guests. I’m guessing they must be pretty thirsty.” Upon saying that, she noticed her husband’s knife in the smaller of the foxes’ paw, though she wasn’t surprised or even bothered.

“Right this way, fellas,” beckoned Emmitt, as he headed for another part of the house. “Gotta keep it hidden from the revenuers. We need some fun once in a while in this drab existence of ours, don’t ya think?”

The two foxes hummed in agreement, but otherwise remained silent, unsure of what to make of this mild-mannered mammal who unhesitatingly had opened his house to two fugitives from the law. They were certainly risking their lives for two strangers.

Turning around for a moment, Emmitt had to ask, “You boys ever drink anything with alcohol before?”

“Anytime I could swipe it from those bunnies!” Finnick smirked, still keeping a strong grip on the knife in his paw. Gesturing to Nick, he continued, “Lanky-ass here has never touched the stuff before.”

“Ah, yes, because I totally wanted to get caught with alcohol breath.”

“Heh, well, I’ll start you off with something easy.” Emmitt said, moving towards a cabinet.

Nick was about to retort, but let it slide. Finnick noticed and grinned smugly before going after the otter.

“Now… this may be none of my business, but how did you foxes make it out?” as he opened several cupboards, looking for the right bottle for the occasion.

“Why do you ask?”

“No one has ever escaped this far from Zootopia. Especially from the Robinsons.”

The two foxes looked at each other for a moment. Breathing out, Nick spoke. “It all hinged on how many Robinsons there are. They’re rabbits. They can’t keep track of all their kits, no matter how hard they try. It gave us opportunities we otherwise wouldn’t have had. Though, we’re not the only ones to have escaped from slavery before.”

“Ah...” the otter responded, before shaking his head. Grabbing two separate jugs and closing the cupboards, he made his way back to the kitchen. “Excuse my askin’. Just…” he said, before ending the sentence sighing. Upon entering the kitchen, Emmitt immediately perked back up - something that did not go unnoticed by the foxes - and strode over to his wife’s side. “I got ‘em something nice to drink, though Nicky there has never touched alcohol before, so I’m giving him the weaker stuff.”

“Oh, dear,” she giggled, “we’ll work you up the ladder. The stronger the better, we say.”

Nick, unamused, leaned against a doorframe. “Sure.”

“Aw, we’re only messin’ with ya,” Olivia said.

Finnick poked him in his side and then took a seat. Trying to keep polite, Nick asked, “Mind if I sit down?”

“Of course, dear! Make yourselves at home! It might as well be, for the time being.”

“You two… you’re very generous, very kind,” he commented, pulling a chair out and sitting back. While they were all predators, the chance of being stabbed in the back was still all too real.

“You’re both mammals. It’d be wrong of us to not extend a paw to help.”

“Speaking of help… When will the food be done?” Finnick asked, causing Nick to groan loudly while the otters laughed.

“Soon, dear.” Olivia said, already liking them both. “I think you’ll love it.”

“Gotta be better than berries every day.”

“Especially since I won’t have to hear you complain, Fin. Though, you just did.” Nick joked, earning himself a rude gesture from his companion as well as another round of laughter. “Okay, yeah, the fish will be a nice change of pace. Want any help with it?”

“After all you two have been through, I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Careful, boys, she's becoming ‘motherly.’” He got a swat from his wife.

“Emmitt, why don’t you go clean the toilet after we eat?” She had a devilish look upon her features.

“Careful, Emmitt, she’s becoming ‘dominant,’” Nick shot back, grinning smugly.  
 

* * *

 

After dinner, the three males retired to Emmitt’s library where he built a small fire to ward off the cold of the night. Finnick had relaxed enough to place the knife beside him as he cradled his drink in both paws. As the room began to heat up, Emmitt removed his sweater revealing that he was wearing a yellow shock collar, much to Nick’s consternation.

“I thought you were from Deerbrooke,” the tod asked suspiciously as he took a seat beside Finnick. “Why are you wearing a collar, then?”

The older mammal stoically smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the requirement of the Zootopian government. Any predator wanting to do business in Zootopia must wear a collar. Thankfully, this isn’t as nasty as the ones you boys must have been wearing in prison,” absentmindedly fingering the collar. “I’ve gotten used to it by now, but I do find it gets in the way of me and the missus’ love life,” he chortled. “Can’t have any spontaneity any more with these babies. We just have to wait until we go back home for our vacation.”

“Why leave home? This country is no place for predators.”  
  
“I can explain all that, but for now,” raising his glass to the other two, “Cheers! May good fortune smile upon you the rest of your journey to freedom!” As they drank, the two foxes couldn’t help but wonder why he avoided the topic.  


* * *

  
“You know, we can remove that collar off of ya,” Nick offered, wiping the tears from his eyes after taking his first sip of the rather potent drink. He couldn’t tell if he truly was warming up to the otter or if it was his drink, but he decided to go with the flow.

“What? No, no, I’d be caught by the Predator Patrol at the first security checkpoint on the ride back home.”

“Yeah, I get that. You’ve got a good thing going on here.”

“Hmph. How fucked are we?”

“Fin! Seriously!”

“Nick, you know the best way to win a game of cards is to know your opponent's hand, screw ‘ _fairness_ ’,” Finnick said, putting up air quotes.

Nick groaned. “There are better ways of asking our _host_ our chances of getting out of here alive.”

“On a scale of one to ten… I’d say a solid eleven,” the otter spoke up with a slight grin. “With my help, anyway. I can get you past the first several hurdles. The rest, though, will be up to you and fate.” Emmitt grabbed a metal poker and began to push at the embers in the fireplace, his voice becoming softer. “Like you said, I have a good thing going on here. I have kits back home, kits that need a father. I can only risk so much. I’ll help as much as I can, guide you along the best paths, but that’s unfortunately it.”

“We never asked you to do this,” Nick pointed out. “You could’ve turned us in and be done with us. I’m still surprised you haven’t.”

Making his way to the two foxes, he placed his paws on their arms. “You’re kits too, and I know you were guided my way by something. Parents never truly stop looking after their young, no matter what happens to ‘em.” The two foxes let that comment sink in, their breaths becoming less relaxed. Emmitt moved to his own seat across the room. “Plus, once you’ve become a parent, you’ll always feel fatherly to other young-uns.

“Now, about your journey to Deerbrooke… that won’t be an easy task. I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Got any maps of the area?”

“I suppose I could try to get my paws on a few for y’all. I’ll mark areas to avoid, show ya what paths would do best.”

“That’d help us greatly, Emmitt, thank you. In the meantime, what would you like for Fin and I to do? We’d like to repay your kindness somehow.”

“We? Bub, speak for yo’self,” Finnick scoffed. “He ain’t been on the run for I don’t even know how long. At least let me rest my paws for the night. Blisters are not easy to run on, and you know we’ll probably get chased again by PP.”

“Always the pessimist.”

Their host was having some issues containing his grin at their little banter. “We’ll let you rest up for the night. Come mornin’, I’m sure my mate can cook up something for you two to do.”

“And eat?” Nick shook his head at his friend. His appetite was sure to kill him one day.

“Of course!” he chuckled. “Now, wait there, I’ll grab y’all something to sleep on.”

“Emmitt,” Nick called, stopping Emmitt from leaving the room. “How do we know you’re not heading out to get the Predator Patrol?”

Sighing, but nodding in understanding, the otter thought of something. “I’ll give you your bedding and you can sleep wherever you want, be it in the house, the woods, or several miles away. We won’t follow.”

“But that still doesn’t stop you from searching for us later with the PP.” Rubbing his forehead with his paw in annoyance, Nick groaned, “But it’s the most you can reasonably do for us, I realize. And you seem trustworthy. I mean, Fin here hasn’t threatened to bite your face off yet,” Finnick angrily bared his teeth at the red fox, watching as Nick found humor in his anger, “...sooo I’m going to trust you, but only a little. We’ll be back sometime after the sun rises. And we may even be willing to do a few jobs for you.” Smashing his paw into his face, Finnick groaned at Nick’s need to continuously offer assistance. He just wanted a break from doing... well, anything.  


* * *

  
Cloaked in darkness, the two foxes left the Otterton home, a few snacks in paw given to them by Olivia and some bedding from Emmitt.

“I do hope they come back like they said.” Emmitt withdrew from the window, collapsing onto the bed.

“Honey,” Olivia sighed, “they’ve been through a lot. I’m surprised they even stepped in here to begin with.”

“Wasn’t easy. Had to offer ‘em my knife. They still have it.”

“I saw. That fennec had quite the grip on it.”

Nodding, Emmitt reached for Olivia, pulling her to bed with him. He smiled as she curled up to him, her nose just under his collar. “This world is sick. I can’t imagine what it was like for them. I’d have keeled over by now, but they’re just trucking through everything. They’ve got fire.”

Letting her eyes close, Olivia relaxed even further. “You’re worried about them.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Em... is it wrong of me to wish I never met them?”

Peering at his love, Emmitt was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“It’s far easier to witness the death of those you don’t know than to witness of the death of those you’ve met.”  


* * *

  
“You just had to offer, din'cha?” Finnick grumbled as he sat down next to Nick. The two foxes found themselves outside in the forest, beside a lake with fishing rods in paw. They had been there for a couple hours hidden amongst some bushes under a couple of trees, away from the heat. They were well away from prying eyes and the heat there was not quite as bad; although, they had yet to catch even a single fish.

“C’mon, this is better than walking until our paws fall off.” Nick reeled in his line and checked the hook for the bait he had added to it - the bait that was, for the tenth time now, mysteriously gone. “I swear, these fish are ninjas.”

“Or you’re just bad.”

“Oh! So, you’ve caught a fish?” eyeing the fishing rod Finnick had left, propped up on some stones. “If you lose that rod, how will you make it up to Emmitt?”

“I’ll give him your sorry butt fur as a rug. Seriously, not a thing but moss,” he grumbled again, not liking the smirk Nick was making. “How does anyone like this? _Fishing_. Wouldn’t it just be better to jump in and grab one ourselves?”

Nick cast out his line again after adding yet another worm. This time he aimed for the middle of the lake. “You're welcome to try, but remember, you’re not a fish. Good luck catching the suckers.” Swiveling to look at his friend again, he was surprised to find him taking his shirt off. “You’re joking, right?”

“We escaped from slavery, these things don’t stand a chance.” And with that, he began wading through the water.

“Can I call you impulsive from now on? Because you are.”

“Kiss my furry ass.” Swiping at some movement that caught his eye, Finnick growled when his claws came up empty. “Ninjas, eh?”

“Seemingly so.”

“We’re predators.” He swiped again and missed again. “These are...just fish.” Another miss. “They...may...be...fast...but...I’m...faster.” Yet another miss, this time accompanied by a splash and a few choice words.

“You sure you’re faster?” Nick said, choking back his laughter. “Doesn’t look like it.” Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat the moment he felt a slight tug on the pole. Standing up, he began reeling his prize in, fighting against the fish. “Fin! I’ve got one!”

“Fuck you, you lanky fox.”

Growing in excitement, Nick furiously reeled in his catch, eager to see what his dinner might be for the night. “Dinner’s going to be great!” He could already taste it.

“Just get it, would ya! We need another three before we can relax again!”

Grunting, Nick replied, “Hey, you’re the one _swimming_ on the job!”

Finnick sighed and made his way to Nick’s fishing line. Grabbing it, he began pulling the fish towards the shore. “See? I’m _helping_.”

“Just watch the hook. Don’t want that stuck in your paw.”

Just a moment later, a shimmering fish emerged from the water, hanging by the hook that was lodged in its mouth. Carefully, Finnick pried the hook off and deposited the fish in a bucket. “What kind is it?”

Peering into the bucket, Nick said, “Certainly not a goldfish.” The red fox was silently wishing he had the chance to learn more about fish with the time he spent with his stolen textbooks. “Gotta be edible, though.”

“Let’s hope.” With that, the fennec went back for his fishing pole.

After adding more bait, Nick cast out his line again and quickly sat back down; the heat was getting to him. Minutes crawled past with only the water tugging at the fishing line. Up above, the clouds crawled across the sky, occasionally covering up the sun and darkening spots of the landscape.

“Never thought I’d miss the climate walls of Zootopia.”


	4. And You Call Us Savages...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A road trip and a familiar face resurfaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NightWolf0179: Well, you were not expecting this, were ya? We actually uploaded in a timely manner! Times truly are changing, huh? XD
> 
> Really, we mostly did it to get this out more quickly. Thus, it is shorter, but there is no degradation in quality. It has met our lofty standards.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this one. Fleshed out some things a bit more. Gave you guys some interesting backstory. Brought back a certain character… I’m intrigued to see your responses to what we added. I really enjoy writing the history, the events that led up to present day in the story. I just know it’ll get even more difficult to keep track of everything, but oh well… XD
> 
> Also, my friend keeps mentioning fluff and we keep putting it off. Blame him, not me!
> 
> Kidding, of course. I’m actually eager to bring more joy in the story. I do not want it to remain all doom and gloom. But I really want to slow everything down. I really enjoy reading the Fanfictions that take their time; the ones that are truly novels in length. I want to do that.
> 
> But that means that I am unsure when we’ll reach any of the events we have planned. But I hope it’ll be worth it to you guys. You’ll see so much more, get so much more detail. I’m hoping you guys like it.
> 
> And with that, onto Jknight’s speech! XD
> 
> ...
> 
> JKnight97: As promised, here is a quick short chapter for our readers. We decided to split it into two because...we’re evil! Bwahahahaha...ehem, actually, we felt that if we didn’t, it would take us longer than a week to post and many of our loyal readers (I’m looking at you, CombatEngineer) demanded an immediate installment. Thank you to all of you who left comments. Cimar, this is still not the fluff we promised (ducking to avoid rotten tomatoes thrown) but I hope everyone will agree that this chapter is necessary in order to paint the whole picture of the Zistopia our protagonists are in.
> 
> Having said that, I no longer can promise how soon the fluff will arrive. We miss it, too, but then, this is art! There must be pain and suffering before we can have happiness. XD

Part One

Creaking. A deep, resonating creaking accompanied Nick and Finnick as they entered the Otterton living room. It was nighttime, and wind was pushing against the home, ever-so-slightly swaying the walls around them as the darkness tried to seep through the resulting cracks. The smell of seasoned fish swirled around the room, mixing with the natural smell of oak that the room was made from. Candles were lit around them, sitting on various tables and objects. The two otters sat across from the foxes, lounging in their favorite rocking chairs. They held paws, the flickering embers of the candles being mirrored in their small claws and caring eyes.

The two lovers let silence sink in before anything was said. It was obvious that the two escapees in front of them were about to leave, about to once again risk their lives in the cruel world around them. Dinner was slightly tense because of this, but no one broached the subject despite the obviousness of it. It had been three days since Emmitt first found them, and with each passing day, the foxes became more and more uneasy, even during today’s dinner. They kept fidgeting, glancing around them, looking through a window or two before returning back to their food. Though, they still ate as if it was their last meal. Not a piece remained of the fish they had caught that morning. It would’ve been heartwarming to see them eat so much and so well, but it was all too likely for it to truly be their last meal.

Turning his gaze from Olivia to Nick, Emmitt got the ball rolling. “It’s about that time, huh?”

Moving his eyes from the wooden, planked floor, Nick sighed. “It’s been great here, it really has been. A little sanctuary.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it that. This little place is-”

“Emmitt,” the fox interrupted, “You gave us a home for a few days.” Finnick nodded at that. “That’s more than we’ve had for a long time.”

“Dearies, you can stay with us.” Olivia couldn't help it. She knew it was too dangerous. But to send the two of them out there - it almost felt like she was handing them off to the devil. “You and Fin… You’re always welcome here.”

“Until we’re caught; then we’re as good as dead.”

“Fin’s right. We can’t stay here. It’d put us all at risk. We’ve always been at risk here. Well, everywhere.” Holding a grimace, he continued, “Our only chance at surviving is to leave.”

“Hon,” Emmitt caught the attention of his mate. “You knew from the beginning they couldn't stay.” Standing up, the otter headed for the exit. “Let me get you two your stuff.”

“Kits,” Olivia said, wringing her paws, “Just don’t forget us, alright?”

The two foxes looked at each other and then to the otter. “Never. And surely we’ll see each other again. Hopefully in Deerbrooke.” Nick tried to be confident for her sake, but he left unsaid where they would eventually meet up if ever the militia caught up with them.

“Then let us help you out more!” Startled, Nick and Finnick stared at her. “You need more than a map and a couple backpacks!” She jumped up and stormed out of the room, vaguely motioning for them to follow her. She passed by Emmitt as he came back with two backpacks, taking a second to snatch them from him.

Stopping in the kitchen, she opened her cupboards and started stuffing the backpacks with homemade canned food. She threw in bottles of pickled beets, apple jelly, strawberry jam, baked beans, relish, pickled herring and salmon.

Emmitt’s face grew somber as he watched the lights on his wife’s collar turn from green to yellow. “Liv…”

“Those kits are going to be hungry, Em! I’m not just sending them out there without food!”

“We’ve been over this.” he started, “We need that for the trip back home; you know we don’t have the money to stop for food or to even stay at a hotel. We got that RV for a reason, remember? And besides, they do have food to last a few days.”

Whipping around to face him, unmindful that the red light on her collar was starting to glow and the warning beeps were escalating, she bared her teeth and hissed, “Dan.” Taking a step towards him, her face grew less terrifying and more miserable. “You don’t remember Dan?”

“Olivia… honey…” he reached out to her, trying to calm her before she shocked herself, and she gratefully melted into his embrace.

“I miss him,” she hiccuped, as the beeping slowly receded and the light shifted back to yellow. “And Nick looks so much like him,” she shook as she spoke. Nick shuffled out of the room, having heard enough. His companion followed after him. “I’d rather die than find their bellies were empty, that they-th-ey got caught grabbing f-f-food.”

“Shhhh…”

Pulling from his embrace, she returned to her task, swiping bottles from every nook and cranny she could find. “Those boys could be dead by this time next week. I’m not… I’m not… I can’t…”

“Okay, Liv… We can let them have them.”

“G-Give them those water purific-c-ation tablets.”

Sighing, Emmitt pulled out a drawer and grabbed them. He also reached up and took a couple plastic cups the foxes could use. “Here you go,” he whispered, dropping them into of the bags.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be; we’ll figure something out. We always do. Maybe we can catch some fish and find a way to freeze them for the trip back? Could the fridge fit in the RV? Pack ice in it?”

Nodding, Olivia silently hoped so. They would be on the road for a couple weeks and needed something to eat, just like their fox fugitives. “Hey!” she exclaimed, having gotten an idea. “Why don’t we give them a head start! We should be able to drive them for a bit and drop them off somewhere!”

“Now, you know that we can’t d-”

“Em! Shush!” she scolded, swatting at him. “We know where all the security checkpoints are! We can avoid them for a while.”

Shaking his head, Emmitt knew how dangerous it would be, but when Olivia got passionate about something, she would never take no for an answer.

…

In the other room, Nick and Finnick could still hear what the otters were saying. Nick felt like absolute trash and Finnick wanted to hit something.

“We can’t just take all of that.”

“Nick...”

Nick paced around the room, nervously nibbling a knuckle. “Maybe we can just leave now? Give them the slip?”

Finnick glared at his tall counterpart. “You heard her. It’d devastate her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want them to starve!”

“Nnngghhh…” Finnick groaned, ready to tear his ears off. “Listen, here, Nicky boy, they’ll be fine. They’re otters, for fuck’s sake! They barely eat anything compared to us. They’ll find somethin’.”

“You can’t possibly like the idea of taking all of their hard-earned food, right?”

“Whaddya take me for? A hustler?” Finnick growled. “‘Course I don’t like it one bit. But they ain’t from here and have a home in Deeerbrooke to get away from all this...this...crap! We need to survive until we can get over the border. And…” he looked down at the floor, ears and tail tucked in, stuffing his paws in his pants, “if they’re willing to give us a boost...I’m not one to look a gift turkey in the mouth.” he mumbled dejectedly, kicking at an imaginary pebble.

Nick glared at his companion. “Are you saying that just to ease your conscience?”

“Dammit Nick!” snarled the fennec, whirling on the taller fox as he yanked him down to his level. “I swear I’m going to bite your face off for that remark. I don’t like this any better than you do but we need all the help we can get.”

“Look, Fin…” Nick muttered, as he disentangled himself from Finnick’s clutches and slumped into a seat. “I never wanted to be a burden on anyone. What have we done for them besides eat their food? We fished a bit? Yeah, that’s totally worthy of the food they were keeping for their trip back to Deerbrooke.”

Finnick walked his way over to Nick and slowly breathed out, gathering his thoughts. “What would hurt her more?”

“...Not accepting their help,” he mumbled, shaking his head. "Fine, Fin! Just... Fine. We'll take it. Just be mindful of the consequences. If something happens to them, it's on us!" He pointed to himself, his teeth bared. "I'm tired of being the cause of so much pain."

“Boys!” Olivia called as she hurried into the room. “Care to go for a ride?”

….

It never ceased to amaze Nick how vast and varied the countryside could be, but from the moment the RV crossed into Bunnyburrow and started going through the vast amount of farms it had to offer, he couldn’t care less. With each farm he saw, he remembered the treatment they received from their overseers and he had to suppress an overwhelming urge to start tending to the crops before he would be lashed. It didn’t matter if he had been hard at work. They would use any excuse, even one as flimsy as not arranging the crop in neat rows, to punish him and his fellow prisoners. He flinched once he saw the first carrot patch near the road they were traveling along, the iconic sound of a whip cracking upon fur and skin ringing in his ears.

They were in the rear of the RV, hiding just below the window’s line of sight, in case anyone spotted two foxes without collars and recognized them as the ones being sought for by the government. Emmitt mentioned that they were in the news daily and whether they liked it or not, they were becoming the unintentional heroes to all predators in captivity. What had started as daily updates had soon become rabid pronouncements of their imminent capture being issued every four hours. Emmitt found it strange, though, that after about a week of this, they had simply stopped mentioning the two escapees which did not bode well. The public relations machinery of the government may have decided to stop making such broadcasts as it looked embarrassing two foxes were able to keep one step ahead of them. His gut told him that something was a-paw and it put him on edge.

“Liv,” Emmitt said, gently prodding his wife’s arm to wake her up. “Go tell Nick and Fin to hide inside the seats again. Another checkpoint.”

Eyes opening up, she stretched before hurrying her way to the sleeping foxes. There, they rehearsed what they’ve already done four times already. Nick and Finnick would hide in the hollowed out couches of the RV, with just enough space for the small predators to hide in and, after a thorough spraying of Musk Mask, they’d pass through the checkpoint as usual, with all their limbs still attached.

Stopping beside the security booth, Emmitt began fishing in his pocket for his wallet. “Afternoon,” he greeted, a faćade of a smile ghosting his muzzle.

“Hmph,” the pig officer in the booth responded, leaning in to take a look at the collar around the driver’s neck. “Your authentication.”

Handing the wallet over, Emmitt leaned his head back against the headrest, letting his eyes momentarily slip behind his eyelids.

“Otter… male, blue eyes, married, Deerbrooke license, permit to pass...” the pig rattled off in an uninterested tone. Slapping the wallet shut, he tossed it back inside the RV, the wallet bouncing against Emmitt’s arm.

Sighing, Emmitt retrieved his wallet and forced himself to smile at the pig. “Have a good day, Officer.”

The pig merely grunted in boredom and waived him past the security booth. Once they were well past the checkpoint did he allow himself to relax.

“You kits alright back there?” he called out.

“Are all prey assholes?” Finnick grunted as he climbed out of the couch.

“No… not all.”

Reclining against the corner of a couch, Nick rested. “How is it you’re able to drive without repercussions? How are you even free? Bunnyburrow still has slaves, they still hate preds.”

“Well, as you know, we’re not from here,” Olivia answered, turning in her seat to look at them. “We were able to get a permit to pass through or visit Bunnyburrow if its for business.”

“Then what exactly were you doing in that little house, then? What business would send you there?”

“This time,” Emmitt breathed out, “we were negotiating a deal with a few of the local predator food suppliers.” Realizing how that sounded, he quickly added on, “I hate slavery as much as you, but I’d rather they get quality food than not get the nutrition they need because no one here cares to enough to make sure predators eat right.” Rubbing at his temple in frustration, he whispered, “The negotiations… They’re not done. A lot of red tape is involved. And some mammals want their paws greased even before we can even approach the Secretary of Commerce to get permission to bring in the food. Then, there’s the Department of Corrections, who are in charge of overseeing the prison camps. Every time we try to meet, they always keep pushing it to another day.

“Sometimes, I get the feeling that the Bellwether government doesn’t care about predators here in Zootopia. That they created those sham offices just to show the rest of the world that they believe in mammal rights. And,” gritting his teeth in anger, the light on his collar momentarily shifting to yellow, “it doesn’t help that I’m not prey.” he hissed.

“When’s the next meeting, then?”

Taking a moment to look at his watch, “An hour ago.”

“Okay, I’m tired of this,” Nick exclaimed as he shakily stood up in the moving vehicle. “Just how much will you give up for us? I never wanted to take so much from you, and yet you insist on giving us everything! Even your job, at this point! Why?”

Sighing, Emmitt turned to his wife, “Liv, can you take over the wheel? I need to fill in the boys as to what’s been happening the last ten years while they were held captive.”

His wife nodded as she slipped into the driver’s seat as Emmitt motioned the two foxes to the rear of the RV. “Guess I should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Nick shook his head, leaning against a cabinet. “Can’t help but feel like I’m making life exponentially harder on you two.”

Finnick crossed his arms, glaring at Nick. “Why can’t you just accept their help?” The red fox in question merely flicked his ear at Finnick’s direction.

The otter took a breath of air, turning to look outside, momentarily staring past the the whirling farms and buildings. “You ever hear of Louis King?”

One of the red fox’s eyebrows raised higher than the other. “The otter that led a gang and threatened to overthrow the capital of Zootopia?”

“That’s what they write in the books they give kits these days.” Clearing his throat, Emmitt looked at the window itself, how the dirt clung to and stained the glass, creating faded streaks that never seemed to go away. “He was a leader in the Predator Rights movement back in the day.

“Gentlest soul you could ever meet. He and I were childhood friends. Back then, he was always looking out for the welfare of others, predator or prey. So, when predators began to suffer under the Bellwether administration, he naturally took it upon himself to press for equal rights. Just like the founders of Zootopia envisioned.”

Nick thought back to the countless history books him and Finnick had read through in their free time. He thought they were careful, that they had fact checked everything; you’d think it’d be difficult to slander the image of a mammal who had lived only ten years ago, one that everyone knew the name of. But then again, the prey of Zootopia seemed to believe everything the government told them.

Emmitt stared wistfully at the floor. “The night before he died, he shared a secret with me. He was in a relationship with a male wolf. He had plans of proposing to him right after the meeting with Bellwether. Was going ask him to mark him.” The otter turned back to the foxes who noticed that a single tear had streaked his fur, following faint wrinkles in his fur caused by old age. But his expression remained neutral, stoic, even.

“We know he died in the very first savage attacks,” Nick recalled. “What happened to his mate?”

The foxes were surprised to see the anger in Emmitt’s face, how he contorted his muzzle, showing his razor sharp teeth as his collar’s light shifted to yellow. “His mate...was the one who went ‘savage’ and killed him.” he spat. “The government blamed it on the wolf’s--and subsequently, all predator’s--predisposition to go savage.

“That there is a load of manure,” he hissed as the light started to feebly glow red. “but back then, the prey were so scared that they meekly accepted it, despite the fact that no predator had previously shown any signs of savagery before. And if it were true, there is no way Louis would have missed the symptoms.”

“Symptoms? His mate was the first one infected with the disease?” Both he and Finnick shifted uncomfortably. They were constantly treated as if they’d turn in an instant. Like there was a dormant infection within each of them back at the plantation, just waiting to take hold and forever change them. They still worried they that they might change one night and kill the other.

Taking deep breaths, Emmitt paused to gather his thoughts, concentrating on the calming meditation he had learned from a wise yogi elephant. As the light receded safely back into the green, he answered. “I don’t believe there is one. In Deerbrooke, there haven’t been any reports of predators going savage. And there’s a higher predator to prey ratio there compared to Zootopia. I think there’s a conspiracy to subjugate predators here in Zootopia. The mammals living in the capital don’t get any news from outside. They’re completely isolated from the rest of the world. But those living on the fringes of Zootopia, like Bunnyburrow, for example, can pick up on the radio signals coming from Deerbrooke.”

“Emmitt!” Olivia shouted. “Get them to hide!”

“What, Liv! There aren’t any… any…” he trailed off, looking through the driver’s window. Right in front of them, there were six Predator Patrol SUV’s blocking the highway. A zebra was shoving a bloody cougar into one of them, a grin sewn into his muzzle. “Hide!” Emmitt quickly scampered into the passenger seat beside his wife, buckling himself in and taking calming breaths.

Not daring to even say a word, the foxes rehearsed once again what they always did. Less than a minute later, they were once more hidden within the couches. But just as he was about to lower the top, in the corner of his eye, Nick noticed the musk mask can rolling rolling on the floor, clinking against the wall. The emerald of his eyes widened, darkening with crushing fear.

…

“Good evening, officer,” Emmitt bowed his head courteously, trying his best to keep his cool despite a strange look in the zebra officer’s eyes.

“Papers.”

“Just a moment,” he said, shuffling in his seat as he pulled out his wallet. “Here you are, sir.”

The zebra gazed straight into Emmitt’s eyes as he took the wallet from him, depositing it into his own pocket. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“Heading home. Closed a business deal last night; gotta return to back to my job. See my kits.”

“You must love them, don’t you?” the officer responded, still not removing his gaze.

“Yes. They’re the light of my life.” Not able to take it much more, Emmitt turned his head forwards again, looking past the horizon. “Still got far to go, but I can’t wait to see their smiles. Keeps me going.”

“How nice,” his voice came out, slithering away in a condescending manner. He leaned further into the cab of the RV. “Do you think your kits would make good slaves?”

“Sorry, sir?” the otter sputtered, shocked at the crassness of the question. His wife, Olivia, who was busy brushing her fur, also momentarily paused, then continued, keeping her face turned from the zebra. As she did, she noticed several more militia mammals, also armed with rifles, studying the RV.

“Well, they are kits, correct? Young? They’d fetch quite the price.” A sneer snaked its way into his lips. “Otters… they’re quite good for jobs that call for small mammals. Or anything that needs good swimmers.”

“Officer, they’re not for sale.”

“Well why not?” he said, turning around and taking a few steps away from the RV, his arms moving to punctuate his words. “You must have such a boring, tedious job, fitting of your species. Let me take them off your paws. I’ll treat them well, especially if you’ve got a girl back home…” Turning back around, he studied the side of Emmitt’s wife, raking his eyes over her form. “Do you?”

“I beg your pardon!” Emmitt leaned forward a bit, trying to stop the zebra from eyeing up his wife. “And no! We don’t have any kits inside.”

With his hooves behind his back, the officer strutted back to the RV, taking a look at its inside. He noticed there was a photograph in the dashboard, one with the otters on it and three kits: two boys, one girl. “Who’s that, then? Maybe I should inspect your vehicle, check that you aren’t hiding anything, eh?”

Clenching his paws, Emmitt tried to calm himself down, slowly breathing in and out. “Sir, I must protest your attitude against Deerbrooke citizens. We are merely here on business under the gracious permission of your government and as such, we have been granted equal rights under the trade treaty as long as we wear these collars,” his eyes beginning to take on a fierce glare as a slow beeping sound began to build from his collar. “As such, you are overstepping your authority.”

“Listen here, pelt!” Josh countered, shoving a hoof in Emmitt’s face, “I don’t give a fuck about the trade treaty and whatever political dance they play up there in the golden towers of Zootopia. My job is plain and simple: deal with all predators to make sure they are collared and are not a menace to our society. I have all the authority I need right here,” patting the holster on his side. “And,” leering at Olivia, “if it requires a full cavity search with my baton on your wife, then you can’t stop me.”

Just as Emmitt was about to lunge at the zebra’s neck, his collar went off, sending thousand of volts of electricity into his small body. Muscles spasming, Emmitt tried to breathe but even that was torture as his own lungs felt like they were caving in upon themselves like a can of soda under pressure. He thought he heard Olivia screaming his name and he tried to focus on what she was saying.

Guffawing with intense laughter, the zebra tossed Emmitt’s wallet to him and went back towards his SUV, his hooves clicking against the pavement. “Lookit’ that pelt squirm like a fish outta water, boys!” he called out to the others who had overheard the exchange. He frowned as he noticed that his subordinates didn’t seem to share in his amusement. Then, just a few short strides from his ride, he heard commotion from inside the otters’ RV: a bang and a squeak.


	5. Though You Kill and Maim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Josh came to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night Wolf0179 A/N: This chapter… oh man, was it difficult to write. Remember when I said we wrote a timeline? Well, we had to add a lot more to it in light of all the stuff we added in this chapter. XD
> 
> It’s really become a lot more complex than I ever imagined it would be. The original timeline is actually quite straightforward. It served as a simple foundation. But the story is becoming bigger, much more intricate, and I couldn’t be more proud of what’s to come. We’ve got some surprises for you guys. After all, we have not even gotten to the main conflict yet! I’m curious to see what you guys think of it.
> 
> You know, it’s strange, building up a story like this. There is still so much left unsaid. I am so eager to just jump right into it. But recently, I’ve been forcing myself to change my pacing. XD
> 
> I’m quite fond of those slow stories, the ones that take their time with their material. The ones that do not jump into the action, that properly build up the world around them. It makes everything so much more meaningful. I want this story to leave an impact. We’re trying to make it thoughtful and thought-provoking. Something that you might remember years down the road.
> 
> So yeah, the main conflict is still far down the road. But when it does come around, I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. Until then, enjoy this chapter! We will also have another chapter for you uploaded within twenty four hours. Yes, we’ve been busy. XD
> 
> And finally, I’d like to thank our two editors, DancingLunarWolves and Stubat007. They found issues I would’ve never noticed. Thanks, guys!
> 
> JKnight97 A/N: Welp! It’s been more than a month since we last posted. Now I know many of you have been eagerly awaiting an update. So, I won’t be long-winded and bore you by telling tell you how RL has been taking a lot of our time, how I took time off to visit family in New York, surprise a friend who was celebrating his 60th birthday in San Francisco, and how Nightwolf and I have been slaving away into the wee hours of the morning just to churn out this magnum opus. XD
> 
> Seriously! If anything, I raise a toast to my young fellow writer who has been using his smartphone Google Docs app to write close to 16,000 words. That is dedication, my friends. XD
> 
> Well, we have a surprise for you. But you’ll need to go to the notes at the end of the chapter to find it. Also, we lied to you. Or to be technically correct, we told you an untruth. We originally said we had a two-parter. Turns out, it’s doubled in size since we last posted. ;)
> 
> Thanks again to Stubat007 and DancingLunarWolves, members of our fearless beta-reader team who found the little gremlins that can ruin a great story. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters except OCs (of which we have quite a few) are owned by ©Disney. Any resemblance to actual persons or mammals, living or dead, is purely coincidental. We do not own Zootopia (sigh). But I own the Blu-Ray!

**Part Two**

 

_When Zootopia was created, it was built upon the belief that predator and prey could live together in harmony. As it grew and grew, from a community to a city and then an entire country, they held this idea. We now know it to be false, however. Time and time again, preds have shown their true colors. Deep down, they are truly savage. Murder is in their blood. But our country’s title, and even our capital’s since it shares the same name, does not reflect our knowledge of this. ‘Zootopia’ implies predators and prey living together in harmony, which was the flawed ideology of its original settlers. The word ‘zoo’ demonstrates this, it’s definition being, ‘A gathering of predator and prey'. Well, while both are certainly gathered here, we do not let them inside our homes, our schools, or even our bathrooms. They are separate, away, as they should be._

_So let our title embody that! Let our capital and our country be known as something else, something that directly states the superiority of the prey race! Something like… Preytopia!_

_I am taking suggestions. If you have one, just send a letter addressed to me, President Bellwether, your Head of State._

\- Excerpt of President Bellwether’s speech, 2016  


* * *

  
“Mom! I’ve missed you!” a little zebra rushed out from his home, launching himself at his mother.

“Whoa, Josh… I’ve only been at the store!” His mother wrapped her arms around her little boy, feeling him eagerly cuddle into her. It always warmed her heart to see him, especially when his joy was sparked by her.

“Yeah, but guess what?” Letting go of his mother, the colt hopped on the spot with excitement **,** causing his mother to smile fondly.

“Hmm, I don’t know… What’s got my little baby so excited?”

“I’m not a baby. I’m a big colt now,” six-year old Josh pronounced, puffing out his chest, making his mother knowingly smile. “Anyway, Alexis is coming over! She’s bringing her scooter and we’re going to go riding! Uncle’s coming, too!”

Ruffling her colt’s fur, she chuckled. “Hey, Karen,” her brother greeted, having appeared in the doorway. “Thought it was about time I got some exercise. It’s a good excuse to hang out with my two favorite mammals!”

She nodded her head with a gentle smile. “What a special occasion,” she teased. “Well, looks like I’m cooking for five today. Luckily, I still have some grasshoppers leftover from last time.”

“I can’t help but wonder what they taste like _,_ ” Karen’s brother mentioned, walking towards the pair.

“Well, you always _chicken out_ when you say you’ll try one, Uncle Jeff!”

“He’s right, you know,” Karen agreed, playfully daring him to try one for once.

“But those legs… Can you imagine them getting stuck in your teeth?” He grimaced, almost shuddering at the memory of having almost tried the well-known predator food. The best he had been able to achieve was a tentative touch with a hoof.

“Wimp.” Josh playfully teased. Hearing the tinny rumble of a scooter rolling along concrete, he turned around and saw his best friend gleefully speeding down the sidewalk. They waved to each other as they grinned, excitement building within them both. “There she is! Hey, Alexis!”

“Josh!” greeted the lioness cub, now crossing the street towards her friend.

As the colt and cub waved at each other, Karen was motioned by her brother. “What’s up?” she questioned, moving nearer to him. Noticing how his demeanor changed as she got closer, she could tell exactly what he was going to bring up.

“Where’s your husband?”

“Oh. He’s out with his… _army buddies._ ”

“Where? In some bar?” Growing slightly angry, he muttered,  “Of course, where else would he be?”

“Don’t be like that, Jeff. Please. You know he’s going through a lot.”

“Sis, he’s a speciesist asshole. You know how is he around Josh’s friend over there.” His eyes flicking to his nephew, his angry gaze melted as he took in the smile upon Josh’s muzzle. “Why do you defend him?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Jeff.” She took a step back from him. “I love him, and he loves me. And how many times are we going to have this discussion?”

Ignoring her question, he pushed on **.** “ _Pfft_ , ‘love’. You were so different until he came along.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were much more… excited. Outgoing. Happier about... everything.”

“Excited? My _husband_ is going through a rough patch in his life. Excuse me for worrying. And so what if he drinks a little?”

“He’s _always_ drinking, Karen.” He stomped angrily after her. “What will it take for you to see who he is? I don’t want to come by one day to see you bloody and bruised thanks to that brute.” Karen unconsciously rubbed her hoof over several bruises on her arms that were hidden by her long-sleeved shirt. Not noticing the movement, Jeff continued, “You’ve never even given me the chance to get to know the guy.” His voice grew softer. “You talk about him like he’s an amazing fellow. I’ve never been with him for more than an hour.”

“You know how busy we’ve been. Moving to this house wasn’t easy.”

“That was three months ago!”

Wincing, she nodded. “Yes, but the bills are stacking high. We both are working our-”

“No, _you’re_ working. _He_ isn’t.”

“Who else will watch after Josh while I’m away?”

“Karen!” Jeff snorted angrily. “You’re working three different jobs just to pay for everything! Why can’t he take at least one? This is your first day off in three weeks! C’mon, sis, snap out of it! Your family misses you. _I_ miss you.”

Getting fed up with her brother, Karen barely kept her voice below a yell. “Every time you visit, you bring this up, and frankly, I’m getting sick of it. Leave. Just leave and don’t come back until you’ve given up on trying to control me.”

“Seriously? I’m not the one who’s trying to control you. When was the last time you spoke to mom and dad? Or for that matter, have you even had the chance to go out on your own with your friends?”

“I...I don’t have any.” she whispered, melancholy embedded in her voice.

Frowning, Jeff asked, “What about Sylvia? Doreen? Your other classmates from college? Before you met him, you were always going out with them. I should know. I had to bail you out of jail several times.” he pleadingly teased.

“Those...were when I was foolish and irresponsible. I’m grown-up now and I have responsibilities. I have a husband and a child to take care of. And if he can’t work, then I have to step up to the plate.”

“Has he even made an effort to look for a job? All he does is spend _your_ hard-earned money on booze.”

“It’s not like that, Jeff. Besides, I’m too busy working to have fun.” she regrettably said.

“But he’s cut you off from us and your friends. Listen, sis, I care about you and Josh. I don’t like having to sneak around behind his back like we’re criminals.” Fixing his eye on her, he asked, “Have you spoken to anyone about your situation?”

Whirling on him, eyes wide-eyed with fear, she grabbed his collar. “You can’t tell anyone! He’ll get upset! He’ll…”

“He’ll what, Karen? Is he going to hurt you? Has he hurt you in the past?” Jeff asked, growing angrier by the question. “I swear, if he’s laid a hoof on you-”

“He gets a little boisterous when he’s had too much. He really doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t know his own strength. Besides, if I say anything, he threatened to take Josh away and I’d never see the both of them again.”

“Sis,” he fretted, grabbing her hoof, “that’s not love.”

Her breath quivering, she turned behind her to check on the kits while she pulled her arm away. “Don’t touch me! If you report this, I’ll deny everything. I do not want to see you near... “ she trailed off, having noticed they were in the street. “Alexis, Josh, get out of the road!” She broke off from her argument and began to walk towards them. She thought they’d know better by now.

The second time she called, they heard her, but when Alexis began to walk back onto the sidewalk, she tripped over her own shoe laces, tumbling onto the ground. “Oh, honey,” Karen soothed. She didn’t look hurt, just surprised. “C’mon, Alexis, before-” 

Just then, a red sports car sharply turned onto their street, its engine roaring as its driver slammed down on the accelerator. “Alexis!” Karen panicked, sprinting to the lion cub on the ground.

Josh watched with wide, frantic eyes as his mother barreled towards his friend. About to take off himself, his uncle grabbed him before he made a move, just in time to see his mother shove his best friend out of harm’s way, only to put herself in the same position.

“ _Mooooooooooom_!”  
  


* * *

  
He’d later find out that it was an illegal street race, the driver a drunk gazelle. He’d carry that knowledge with him as he attended his mother’s funeral, as Alexis tried to console him until he couldn’t take anymore, until he broke and gave her a physical taste of the pain his heart was suffering through. She never bothered him again after that, the pain in her jaw snaking its way to her heart.

Alexis’ parents came by the house a month after the funeral. They knew he was hurting, and while what he did was still unacceptable, they had to do something. Their daughter was such good friends with the colt.

They were surprised when the door was opened by Josh himself. “Son,” Alexis’ father whispered as they knelt before him. “Can we talk?” He never responded, so the lion continued on. “We’re sorry for your loss. Your mom saved Alexis. It’s a debt we can’t repay. Is there anything we can do for you?”

“Yes!” he gasped, fury and hate evident in his eyes. “You can bring my mom back!” The colt took pleasure in how the lights on their Tame Collars changed colors from green to yellow. He wanted to see what would happen if they turned red.

“Oh, Josh,” the lioness said consolingly, “we all would love that. But we can’t.”

“Then, you can leave me alone! It’s because of you pelts that my mom died.”  

His father told him why it happened. Whose fault it was. Just like every other evil and cruel thing in the world, it was caused by predators, by savage fleabags. Josh would listen to the drunken tirades of his father, who blamed his lot in life to ‘those lousy, sneaky, flea-infested pelts who think they’re better than me with their college degrees, taking all the cushy jobs while an honest mammal like me can’t even get a job pushing a broom'. He knew what happened, why it happened.

“Your stupid, weak, pathetic daughter should have been the one to die, not her,” declared the little colt, proudly repeating his father’s words against the very mammals who had dealt him a cruel hand.

Alexis’ parents knew this could happen. They had heard the rumors of the abusive zebra somewhere in that house. How he hurt his wife everyday, how he harbored such terrible thoughts of all predators. With no one to teach him otherwise, the colt before them was now a lost cause. A corrupted soul.

Shaking their heads in sorrow, the two lions left Josh to himself, to his father. Never again would they drive down that neighbourhood road.  


* * *

  
Josh slowly became an outcast in the community, even among his own relatives. He never spoke again to his uncle whom he was once very close to. He considered him just as weak and pathetic as those predators. When he had tried to convince Josh it was not the fault of Alexis but the drunk prey driver, he knew his father was right. His uncle was a pred-lover. A traitor to all prey. So, when he tried to gain custody of him, he recited before the judge every single word his father had him memorize, further proving just how stupid and idiotic his uncle was. Josh felt enlightened in the end.

The days following his mother’s death, Josh’s father drank much more heavily, seemingly replacing his blood with liquor. He ended up quitting his job after receiving the sizeable settlement from the drunk prey driver’s insurance company. Josh learnt to fend for himself as the old stallion, more often than not, ended up passed out on the couch. The irony of it, though, was not lost on him: he ended up losing both parents to alcohol.

He learned not to make too much noise when he took money from his father’s wallet or too much that he would notice. When he did get caught, his father would beat him. After some time, the beatings no longer bothered him. What did were the hateful rants that only a bitter adult could express while in an alcohol fueled rage. Words like, ‘you should have been the one’, ‘I wish you were dead’, or the most hurtful, ‘you should never have been born’ were the most common to be spit out of his father’s raging maw.

Josh never blamed his dad. In his mind, it should have been the predator cub that died that fateful day and not his mom. She should not have had to sacrifice herself to save a worthless pile of flea-infested pelt. He reasoned that his father would then have been happy; he would not have had to suffer his beatings, and all would be well with his life. He was sure if his mom were still alive, she would have intervened and not allow him to lay a hoof on her son. It never occurred to him to question why his father would drag his mother into the bedroom when she did or why she would always wear long sleeved shirts, even in the middle of summer or walk with a slight limp after his father would come home late from a drinking night out with the boys. He never asked her why he would hear her crying late at night when they thought he was asleep. The one time he did, she told him his father had it rough growing up and they needed to be patient with him. That deep down inside, he was a good mammal.

She had made Josh promise that he would continue his education no matter what. She didn’t want him following in the footsteps of his father who had not even finished grade school. She believed her husband was capable of more; he was intelligent, but life took him down a different path, one that she had hoped she could save him from when she had married him **.**

As time passed, Josh withdrew more and more into himself, not caring to become involved with others. Not many of his schoolmates believed in his hateful views against predators and they had begun to shun him out of embarrassment. He became a loner and would have stopped going to school altogether if not for the fact his father would beat him if they reported him skipping classes. He vowed to show them all that he was correct. That predators couldn’t be trusted and had to be eradicated. On the eve of the 2005 election, when Woodson died at the paws of his otter speech writer who had gone savage, he gleefully danced a jig as he watched the replays over and over again.

As he grew older, the anti-pred slogan, “Prey Not Preds”, called to him. The month after Bellwether’s administration imposed the new Slave Collars for all predators exactly a year after Woodson’s untimely death, he happened to turn eighteen and immediately enlisted in the newly formed Predator Patrol, Bellwether’s personal right-hand organization she created the same day she fully enforced predator slavery. It was the best day of Josh’s life. There, he was finally amongst those who thought like him—although, the general population was beginning to see the light as well.

His fanaticism quickly made him the darling of his commanders, pushing him into higher and higher ranks so that in ten years, he was the youngest Lieutenant in the Predator Patrol. However, as was the case of most meteoric rises, the good times didn’t last long. His cruel streak, previously envied and admired, began to bring embarrassment to his superiors. He rarely learned his lesson. Despite repeat offenses, it was a miracle that he still remained in the PP **.**

The final straw for High Command was when he had a run-in with a slave belonging to Mayor Bellwether’s office.

He had been recently demoted to Sergeant because of his excessive use of force against an escapee predator and his prey fiancée. _Interspecies trash!_ he thought, spitting vehemently on the sidewalk. He had spent the previous evening on a bender and was nursing a hangover after drinking his anger and frustration away. He was in a piss-poor mood. So, when the vixen emerged from the limousine she was driving and blocked his way as she helped an elderly nanny goat out, he made damn sure she would know her place in this world.

He grabbed the vixen by the shoulder, spun her around and hit her across the muzzle with the back of his hoof, causing her to fly onto the hood of the limo. Blood leaked from her nose as she stared wide-eyed in fear at him with her collar rapidly blinking. Josh loved it when they got that look in their eye. The knowledge that he held their fate in his hooves. That they were powerless to stop him. He loved it so much that he craved it, like a crackhead seeking that next fix. And sometimes, it took more to satisfy that particular itch **.**

“You there! Who do you think you are? Stop that, this instant!” bleated the goat as she swung her cane at his head. Josh was surprised. Another pred-lover, corrupting the gene-pool? The anger in him boiled over as he easily swatted the cane out of her hand and reached out to shove her onto the sidewalk. His hoof never made contact as the vixen bodily checked him against a mailbox.

Head spinning from both the blow and his throbbing headache, he lay on the sidewalk as the white fox limped painfully over to the elderly goat. “Are you alright, Madame Secretary?” she asked, ignoring the pain as the beeping of her collar indicated the light had shifted over to yellow. Noticing this, she began to go through a routine she always used to calm down. After years of wearing the thing, she had learned how to control her emotions.

“I’m fine, my dear,” she nodded, “Never laid a hoof on me, thanks to you. But, oh! You’re the one that’s hurt. How’s are you feeling?”

“A bit out of sorts, to tell you the truth. I think I dislocated my hip when I pushed him away. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll-”

She never finished her sentence as she screamed out in pain when Josh’s right hind hoof connected with her good leg, shattering the bone. She crumpled onto the sidewalk, helplessly clutching her hind leg as the zebra circled her like a hawk. Her collar began to beep louder as her heart rate spiked due to the pain.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, n-” she whimpered, frantically trying to level out her breathing as she curled into a ball with her head pressed into the asphalt. Horrified as the beeping only continued, she reached out for Rose’s hoof, calling for her help.  The zebra stood between them, sneering as her cry was choked by electricity coursing painfully through her already damaged body, causing her muscles to seize up involuntarily. The pain and the panic did nothing to lower her heart rate which further shot up and was caught in a cruel vicious circle which would only end if she mercifully blacked out.

“Not so uppity are ya, now, pelt?” spitting blood at her from the cut on his lip. This was the first time _any_ predator had ever dared to attack him. She needed to know her place as a lowly predator, ruled by prey **.** Seeing her panicked expression, Josh felt better despite the urge to throw up his non-existent breakfast.

Retrieving her cane, the old nanny quickly dialed her office. “Henrietta? Call Bellwether and the Mammal Patrol, at once! I was attacked by a crazed zebra and poor Carla tried to defend me. She’s getting shocked because of the damn collar! It’s going to kill her! Get someone to turn it off, this instant! I left my remote in the office. Hurry, please! I don’t think she’s going to last long. Track us by the limo’s GPS coordinates.”

Ending her call, she turned on Josh and began whacking him over the head with her cane, splintering the wood. With each firm whack of the cane, Josh saw more and more stars as his head swam.

“You brute! You bastard! Attacking innocent mammals on the street! I’ll have _your_ neck in a collar! Get away from her, you fiend!”

Josh faltered from her attack. He had not expected the old geezer to retaliate. He tried to evade her swings but she was too quick. That, and he was still hungover from last night.

Suddenly, a Mammal Patrol jeep pulled up to the curb. Two burly tamaraws rushed out and took immediate stock of the scene before them: a white fox on the ground with blood on her muzzle being shocked by her collar; an elderly female goat wielding a cane was pummeling a zebra wearing the PP uniform. Never having come across such a sight before, they came to an unfortunate conclusion. Pulling out his radio, the older of the two bovines with the rank of Major called it in.

“Murphy, get a BUS stat at our location. We’re on Haymarket Street near the Oasis Loop. Got a confirmed pred gone savage currently being shocked by her collar; two preys, possibly in shock.” Returning the mike to his shoulder holster, he withdrew a taser and approached the spasming vixen. “Bill, separate those two. We need to check on who got bitten. I’ll keep an eye on the savage fox.”

“Why do you always get the easy tasks?” grumbled the second water buffalo as he slowly approached the pair of fighting mammals.

“Rank has its privileges,” smirked the Major. However, as he neared the fallen fox, he started to become nervous. He had never come across a savage predator before and his training only covered the basics. It had never been established whether if bitten, the victim would also experience the same symptoms. But then they had never been able to explain the ‘Mad Cow’ epidemic back in the eighties. At least that was a disease, not something rooted to their biology **.**

A sudden jerk by the fox startled him, causing him to discharge his weapon into her exposed midriff. Fifty thousand more volts slammed into her already weakened body, causing her heart to palpitate even faster and her diaphragm to seize. The panicked bovine squeezed the trigger pad far longer than what was recommended by their training officer. “Better her than me,” he quietly muttered.

As the younger buffalo picked the zebra off the ground after finally getting the elderly goat to back off, Rose Ramsworth heard the taser gun being discharged. She was horrified to see her assistant being subjected to more torture by the very mammals she had called for protection. She rushed over to quickly whack the wrist of the Major, causing him to drop his taser, mercifully stopping the angry pulses of current.

“Are you out of your mind? What in the blasted stars are you doing, you bumbling idiot!” she screeched as she attempted to approach the downed vixen only to be held back by the buffalo.

“Protecting you from a savage predator, Madame Secretary,” grumbled the Major, rubbing the spot where her cane had connected. “And ‘Thank you’ is usually the normal response.”

“For what? Hurting an innocent child?” she growled as she tried to go around the bull. “And where’s your remote control? I need to shut off that damn collar!”

“Madame Secretary, I can’t let you get near her. She’s a savage animal,” he answered as he interposed his body between her and the fox as she frantically tried to poke her way through **.** “I did what I had to do.”

“‘Had to’? Well, I’ll _have_ your hide on my wall if you don’t let me through to my baby! What’s wrong with you! What made you think she went savage!”

“The blood on her muzzle. It’s obvious she’s bitten someone and since I can’t see any bite marks on you, then I surmise it’s that poor zebra you were attacking.”

“ _That_ poor zebra is the very reason she’s injured. That’s her blood on her muzzle when he hit her for no reason. When he tried to attack me, she stopped him and injured herself in the process. He attacked her from behind like the coward he is and now her collar won’t stop shocking her. Now, _where is your damned remote!_ ” she angrily demanded, ready to continue whacking him with increasing ferocity.

“I-I don’t have one, Ma’am. They don’t issue them to the Mammal Patrol.” 

More panic settled in her stomach at this news and she readied to headbutt the water buffalo down the street in rage. Just as she began to step closer, an ambulance arrived and two elk medics jumped out, giving the buffalo a chance to relax as she turned her attention towards the medics.

“Quick!” she waved them over to the white fox who was still experiencing electric shocks, “We need to get the collar off now.” Swiftly obeying, the medics activated the collar release on the universal remote issued to all first responders. Once she was satisfied Carla was being tended to, she furiously turned on the Major. He grimaced, preparing himself to speak to her again. He couldn’t understand it. It was like the fox’s life was tremendously important to her; important enough to make her go damn near crazy.

Pointing to Josh, she ground her teeth in anger at the sight of him. “I want to press charges! _That_ oaf attacked us without provocation.”

“Madame Secretary, I-”

“What’s going on here?” demanded an elderly bull elephant. He stepped out of another limousine, this time bearing the flag of the Predator Patrol. He took one look at the scene before him and immediately felt a fire burn in his body. Josh, barely conscious, felt his heart sink at the sight of the pachyderm.

“Colonel Hathi, sir!” saluted both bovines as the bull approached them. “We were responding to a disturbance called in by President Bellwether’s office, sir. We came upon this Sergeant being attacked by Madame Secretary Ramsworth. She alleges that the Sergeant attacked them first.”

“That’s a lie!” sputtered Josh, “I was just minding my own business-”

“Shut it, Haughton!” barked the Colonel. “I wasn’t speaking to you. Now, then,” returning his attention to the two members of the MP, he inquired, “What of the fox?”

Shrugging, the Major answered indifferently. “She was already down and being shocked by her collar. However, I discharged my weapon when I felt she was a possible threat. We assumed she attacked Madame Ramsey and the Sergeant because of the blood on her muzzle.”

Rose looked away from where the medics were tending to her personal assistant when she heard the buffalo’s report and angrily marched up on her wobbly cane, glaring at the zebra. “He’s the one I reported who attacked me and Carla, my poor, sweet vixen,” shoving the end of her cane forcefully into Josh’s face. “She was defending me from him when he attacked her from behind. “You coward! You piece of filth!” She directed her verbal abuse at the besotted zebra, spittle furiously flying from her mouth, some of it landing in his eye.

“Are you sure?” questioned the Major. “I mean, why would she do such a thing? He’s four times her size. And a fox to boot. They’re a sneaky bunch, that species is.”

“Are you questioning my credibility, Major?” she whirled on the buffalo, brandishing her splintered cane like a sword, jabbing him with the end, an unquenchable fire in her eyes. “Are you calling the Secretary of the Department of Science and Technology and President Bellwether’s second-in-command a liar?”

“No, ma’am!” the buffalo nervously raised a hoof, sweat beginning to form on his brow as her cane nearly whacked him again. “I’m just saying I’ve never heard of a predator doing anything out of the goodness of their heart, much less a fox.”

Trembling with anger, she yelled, “I’ll have you know, Major, my Carla is the sweetest little vixen around!” eyes blacker than coal angrily boring into the thick skull of the bovine officer. “Why, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly! She-”

“Madame Secretary!” called one of the medics. “She’s asking for you!”

Rose hurried as quickly as she could to the stricken vixen’s side inside the ambulance. “Carla, can you hear me?” she whispered worriedly.

With a small nod, the injured vixen acknowledged her charge. She tried to speak but all that came out was a whisper. The old goat bent over so her ear was near the vixen’s muzzle, much to the shock of all the prey - excluding Hathi - as they caught sight of the fox’s sharp teeth so close to the goat’s ear.

“Madame Secretary, I don’t think that’s a good-” began the Major.

“Shut it, you imbecile!” she bleated. “Be glad that I don’t have you skinned alive and boiled in oil for shooting an unarmed mammal! If I want your thick-headed, bumbling opinion, I’ll ask for it. Now, quiet all of you!” commanded the nanny goat. “Carla,” she whispered, bending closer, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m…’kay,” she wheezed, feeling millions of needles piercing her heart, tiny pinpricks painfully crawling over her fur as the world angrily buzzed around her. “You...hurt?”

“No, my dear,” sobbed the female goat as she cradled the vixen’s paw in one hoof. She noticed how listless the vixen’s paw was, how frail it felt as it shook every few seconds. “You’re such a fool. You’re the one injured and yet you’re asking if I’m hurt. You’re such a brave mammal, my child, protecting me from that idiot.” She reached a hoof out to caress the vixen’s head as she rubbed her own cheek on the paw she was holding. “Now, no more talk. I’m going to make sure you get better.”

“...sorry…Momma...” she was able to gasp out before her head eased to the side, the light in her eyes dimming as she stared into a distant void, the vibrant blue being sapped from within.

Eyes widening so much that it pained her, she frantically tried to shake the vixen awake as her tears dripped from her cheeks and into the fabric of Carla’s dress. “Medics! Someone! Help me! Pleeeeease!” she whined, her voice twisting with anguish.

The medics yanked her out of the vehicle as they moved to defibrillate the fox. With each charge of the device, the goat’s own heart stopped as she waited for Carla’s to start. “Carla! Baby girl! Sweetie! Carla-a-a-aaa!” she sobbed as she fell to the concrete, her thoughts a mess of misery. She needed her fox; she was her life, and she had such a strong heart, such a caring one. It couldn’t just give up now, not like this, not in electric pain.

Never again would she see those bright eyes. Never again would she fall asleep with knowledge her Carla was safely tucked in her bed in the next room. Never again would she feel her girl’s heartbeat through each hug she received. With every officers’ eyes on her, she wept, mourning the loss of a large piece of her soul.

It seemed no one cared. Not even the medics. They had one less predator to worry about; one less set of deadly fangs. While the medics were obligated to save predators purely because of their value as slaves, being the cheapest workforce around, it appeared they still preferred a dead predator over a living one, no matter how important they were to production.

Once the medics had pronounced Carla dead and allowed Rose back into the ambulance, she cradled the deceased vixen’s head to her chest as tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry, too.” she whispered. “You deserved better than this,” she sobbed, recalling all of the love and affection the little vixen had freely given out. Carla had looked to her as if Rose was her personal guardian angel, a gift to forever cherish. All the hugs, the expressions of love, the gifts and the thank you’s; it all came rushing back as she stared into the vacant eyes of the once vibrant Carla.

Even though the medics were disgusted over the goat’s behavior, they fearfully withdrew a distance as Rose rocked Carla’s body, softly crooning the vixen’s favorite lullaby, the one that would always help her sleep, no matter how difficult the day had gone. Passing a hoof over her eyelids, Rose let her little girl sleep one last time.

Turning from the heart-wrenching scene, Colonel Hathi discreetly wiped a tear from his eye. He gruffly informed the buffalo, “I’m sorry, Major. He’s a member of the Predator Patrol. As such, you will bring him to our headquarters where _I_ will be responsible for disciplining him.”

* * *

  
He hated checkpoint duty.

Predators, while dumb, were not dumb enough to get themselves caught at a Predator Patrol security checkpoint. Such things were easily avoided. While it was much quicker to go through a checkpoint, they would be immediately caught. And thus, Josh was bored; tired, bored, and annoyed.

The most fun he had had in weeks was when he shot that hyena pelt. It was invigorating, and it satisfied his need for adventure for a couple days. Things like that only ever happened while he was out patrolling. It was why that was his favorite part of the job. Plus, he got the chance to see the beautiful countryside. It was an addictive sense of freedom.

But here he was, doing the exact opposite of patrolling. _Checkpoint duty_. He deserved to be out in the field, busting miserable preds, making the world a better place, not harassing every single vehicle that drove through. It was as fruitless as it was boring. At least he was on break.

The metal chair was his best friend for thirty minutes, and he intended to use the time as well as possible: by playing a game on his phone. It was a simple game - he could never wrap his head around the complex ones - about running away from a savage predator. The track his character ran on was randomly generated; the same was true of the obstacles, and he took great joy in never really playing the same game twice (though, it did _look_ very similar each time). Already, he had twelve out of the fifteen possible skins for the savage that chased him throughout the game. Clicking away on his phone, ducking over a fallen powerline and hopping over a crack in the street, a cloud of dense smoke and the silhouette of a bear chased him as he edged ever closer to his high score. That skin was his newest unlock, and it took him twelve hours of grinding to purchase.

He was above spending actual money on those evil microtransactions. And he was so, so close to the next unlock: a savage tiger with a hideously-bloody maw dripping with foaming saliva. He’d get it soon, he just had to get another thousand coins.

“Josh, what are you doing?”

Shaking his head to regain his sense of place, Josh tried to refocus his eyes on the tiny mammal in front of him. “V-Veronica? That you, girl?”

The pudu’s eyes narrowed viciously as she marched towards him. “Don’t talk to me like that if you think your fur does not need to be rearranged, fleabag. Your break ended ten minutes ago. Get your lazy ass out there before I throw you out. And it’s Captain to you, Corporal!”

Despite her diminutive stature, Josh did not want to get on her bad side as he was keenly aware that she had put several larger mammals into the hospital who had underestimated her. Begrudgingly, Josh stood up and made his way outside, heading to his position inside a security booth.

Passing by another Predator Patrol officer, he asked, “Any news on the foxes?”

Already irritated, the officer barely even said _no_ before going back to the laptop on his lap. He wanted to catch those foxes too, but with that zebra constantly pestering him about it, he would’ve almost preferred to see _him_ inside the PP Lockup.

Shrugging innocently, Josh marched onwards **,** stepping by more of his fellow officers. None of them took notice of him, though, remaining nose-deep in whatever it was they were doing.

Entering the checkpoint, he settled down at his desk and logged into the computer. _It’s going to be a long day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: We have heard from many of our readers how much they love to hate Josh. Well, I’m sure we’re going to get more ‘hate’ mail about him soon. XD
> 
> But not to fret! We heard you and this is our offer to our loyal readers. Write to us in the comments or reviews how you’d like to see your favourite villain punished. The ones we like best, we’ll build them into new chapters. We’re also open to suggestions or ideas that you’d like to see.
> 
> P.S. I didn’t forget my promise about fluff. ;) We had so many good ideas that we were able to write the next chapter and we are posting it simultaneously! So, read on!


	6. Angels Among Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy's first meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night Wolf0179 A/N: Welcome to part three! It’s so strange to upload two chapters so close together, especially considering how large these two are. It took time to write these, but we were able to get over ten thousand words out to you all in around a month. I’m happy about that.
> 
> Even more interesting… this chapter was written before chapter five, if you disregard the edits we have made recently. It’s been sitting here, eagerly awaiting its upload. XD
> 
> And finally… we may have some fluff waiting you all. Enjoy!
> 
> JKnight97 A/N: Welcome, one and all! So, we finally have the chapter you’ve been waiting for. It’s not all fluff but after months of laying the foundation, we are now about to launch the SS WildeHopps for a quick spin around the marina. You will see more of her in the next chapter (Yes! Two fluffy chapters in a row). As for now, we ask you to buckle up, relax, place your feet up and enjoy the fluffiness!
> 
> Now on to answering some of the reviews/comments we’ve received:
> 
> Cimar: Thank you for all the reviews! Yes, Josh is a major jerk and Chapter Five went deeper into his backstory. And since you were the first to ask, yes, Ramic, your Zoosona shall be one of the major players in his downfall. ;)
> 
> Jack_Kellar: Like I said before, we’re big fans of Karma and we hope you stick around long enough to see her role in the story. And although you said you don’t like flashbacks in the middle of a cliffhanger, we felt the previous chapter was necessary. However, this new chapter should make up for the long wait.
> 
> Guest review on NightWolf0179’s profile: We know we could’ve posted the story on one single account. But when I asked Jknight to co-author with me, I wanted this story to benefit the both of us. If we uploaded it on my profile only, what would he gain from it? Only I’d get the follows, the favorites. It wouldn’t be fair. 
> 
> And yeah, we considered just sharing a whole new account… but again, it would not benefit our personal accounts. This is a compromise, one I happily made.
> 
> J Shute Norway: Thank you for your latest review. Your words warm our hearts and give us more inspiration to continue writing for our readers.
> 
> VenomHeart the Dreamer: “Damn” is right. XD This story has been very… dark. We realize this. But not to worry, there will be light at the end of the tunnel!
> 
>  Vince Fangway: Yes, it is dark. But these two foxes have survived slavery for the last ten years. They will stop at nothing to make sure they remain free.
> 
> CombatEngineer: I hope we were able to satisfy your demand. And there will be a satisfactory ending in a Collar AU, we promise. ;)
> 
> Stubat007 and DancingLunarWolves: You’ve been our beta-readers and editors from Day One. So you know we’re going to push the envelope as far as we can. (starts singing “Hello Darkness, my old friend”) XD
> 
> Fail-Seeker and OptimusPower92: We’re happy that you like the story. We hope that the newer chapters are to your satisfaction as well.
> 
> InTheLionsDen: This chapter will hopefully answer your question. :)
> 
> Many thanks to all those (including Guests) who left Kudos, Favorited, Followed and/or Tagged our story. They mean a lot to the both of us. We shall do our best not to disappoint.
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters except OCs are owned by ©Disney. Any resemblance to actual persons or mammals, living or dead, is purely coincidental. We do not own Zootopia but...darn it, I wish we did.

Part Three

 

Tearing the RV’s door off its hinges, the zebra was immediately hit by the stench of vulpine. Nostrils flaring, he shoved half of his body inside, feeling the frame of the doorway bend and scrape against his ribcage as he struggled to enter. His hooves flailed around as he tried to find something sturdy in the RV to pull himself further inside with, nearly hitting the female otter with each pass. Now panting, he began to salivate as he opened his maw, sucking in more oxygen. Grinding a bit further inside, the doorway squeezed his body more and more, making any further movement painful. In a crazed frenzy, the officer was able to retract his body a bit, giving him enough clearance to grab his gun. Thrusting his hoof into the RV, he cracked the gun against Olivia’s head as she was tending to Emmitt’s inert body, yelling, **“** Where are they!” Flicking off the gun’s safety, he pointed it at her. “I can smell they were here. Where the fuck are they? Tell me!” he demanded.

Olivia’s eyes went cold as she glared at the crazed equine, cradling Emmitt’s head to her chest, her collar light edging into the citrine zone. “Get that gun away from me, you foul-smelling piece of shit!” she snarled, slapping the gun away with her paw. Her face contorted as she thought of all the things she wanted to do to the zebra. Voice becoming deeper, darker, several times more sinister, the otter slowly growled out, “You’ll pay _dearly_ for what you just did to my husband.”

The zebra sneered as he raised the gun, bringing it closer to his muzzle. Looking through its sights, he pointed it directly in between Olivia’s two green eyes, his hoof ready to push the trigger button.

“Corporal! Stop whatever in God’s name you’re doing!” a booming voice shook the RV.

An immense trunk wrapped around the zebra’s neck, ripping him out of the doorway and flinging him like a rag doll across the road. The zebra bounced several times on the hard asphalt before coming to rest at the feet of his subordinates who hurried to help him up.

“I should strip you down right now after that display and have your reject backside sent back to the predator food factory! You’re not fit to wear the Predator Patrol uniform! What do you have to say for yourself, Haughton?”

Grabbing at his neck, Joshua wheezed as his windpipe slowly opened up. “C-C-Colonel H-H-Hathi,” he coughed, feeling nauseated as he gazed up at the elderly massive bull elephant clad in the upper echelon’s darker version of the PP uniform. “They disrespected-”

“What’d they do? Insult your _mommy?_ You’re out of line, you putrid piece of rotting flesh!”

“Sir, I-”

Hathi stomped closer to Joshua, the elephant’s eyes boring straight through the zebra. “You’re an embarrassment to the uniform, you waste of space!” he hissed, his large ears sticking out in anger. “You really haven’t learned your lesson, have you? There are reasons why we have rules and guidelines. We-”

Shaking his head, he fixed a murderous glare at the zebra. “You know what? You don’t deserve a lecture! I already took your stripe away, and you’re _still_ as idiotic as ever! One more mistake and I’ll personally bust you down to Private! Now, get out of my sight before I do something you’ll _really_ regret! I’ll deal with these suspects.”

Gulping, Josh scrambled to obey his superior as he and his crew took off down the road in their vehicle.

Muttering under his breath, Hathi turned to the wrecked RV and paused before the open door. “My apologies, madam,” he spoke gently to Olivia as he tipped his cap with his trunk as he held a swagger stick underneath his armpit and his other hoof behind him. “That useless mammal does not represent the fine traditions and values of the Predator Patrol. However, it will still be necessary to inspect the interior of your vehicle. May I ask you to step out, please? We’ll call an ambulance to look over your mate and a mechanic to reattach the door. Free of charge, of course.”

* * *

  
Veronica was enjoying a snack when she heard all the commotion. She wasn’t at all surprised to find that Haughton, that idiotic zebra, had done yet another stupid thing. It was expected, at that point. Everyone was wary of him. Sure, he hated predators just as much as everyone else, but they had guidelines to follow, rules to abide by. She didn’t even know _how_ he lasted so long in the Predator Patrol to begin with.

And now, because she herself was foolish enough to check out what new mess Haughton had created, she was stuck with investigating that damn RV.

Putting on a professional face, she donned a pair of gloves and waited for the two otters to leave the vehicle. She noticed a suspiciously-nervous look on the female’s face as they passed by, and she made sure to also grab her knife, just in case she needed it.

Hopping inside the RV, the pudu picked up a faint odor, presumably what that crazed zebra had smelled, bringing her mind back to what had just transpired. While she too was repulsed by the corporal’s behavior, she didn’t know what her superior was up to. _Coddling predators_ _will definitely raise a few eyebrows and make tongues wag over at the Officers’ Club. He’ll surely get reprimanded_ , she thought. Opening up the nearest cupboard, Veronica poked her head inside and raised an eyebrow at its emptiness; not only was it missing a stowaway predator, but also _food._ She suspected they were heading back to Deerbrooke, so it would be foolish for them to not bring enough food for the long trip back. After all, it would be difficult for them to get reasonably priced food in any of the towns of Bunnyburrow. No one wanted predators in their stores unless those same predators were carrying out orders from their masters. Shrugging, she moved on to the other cupboards, finding them also devoid of anything besides disturbed dust.

Walking her way to the fridge, she found it nearly empty, only containing some jugs of water. Closing it, she sighed irritably, knowing she’d now have to open the top freezer. Why she was the only small Predator Patrol officer at the checkpoint, she hadn’t the slightest clue. Taking a running jump, she grabbed hold of the freezer door handle and hung on, opening it with her hind legs and peering inside. The pungent stench of fish on ice wafted towards her, and she had to hold her breath to keep herself from gagging.

Making sure she closed the freezer door, lest she puke from the overpowering stench of dead animals, she dropped from her hold on the handle. She continued her search throughout the rest of the RV, checking every corner, every crevice, for any sign of a hidden predator.

She knew RV’s liked to cram in as much storage space as possible. As such, when she came around to the couch, she knew it was likely hollow. And it was decently sized, too; if there was a mammal hiding in the RV, that place would likely have the most space.

Stepping closer, she noticed the odor she encountered when she first entered the RV was growing stronger. And it smelt vulpine, distinctly different from the fish and making her inwardly cringe at the thought of having to deal with a disease-ridden fox. Pulling out her knife, she grabbed hold of the seat cushion.

* * *

  
Colonel Hathi approached the two otters as they rested inside the ambulance. The male was being treated for electric shock while the female had a bandage above her left eye covering the gash on her left temple. He politely harrumphed to get their attention and signaled the medic with a nod of his head that he wanted to speak to the two in private. The beaver snappily saluted and left the pair of otters alone with the elephant and his adjutant.

“How are you two feeling?”

Emmitt managed to sit up while holding his wife’s paw in his. “Thank you very much, Colonel. You saved us from that lunatic. We are in your debt.”

“It’s nothing that an officer and a gentlemammal wouldn’t do. However, unless you can explain certain inconsistencies we found in the RV, I may be collecting on that debt much sooner than you think. Captain, would you care to explain what your findings were?” directing his question to the petite deer by his side.

“There was the unmistakable stench of fox all over the RV. The scent is strongest in the empty storage space inside the couches. Then, there is a significant lack of food in your vehicle save for a few frozen fish inside the freezer. Given how you’re in the country of  Bunnyburrow and the only way for a predator to get food is for their master to order it in advance–which would also require you to be a slave–then you’re in for a long trip without the necessary supplies to sustain yourselves. It’s a bit suspect. What’s your business here?”

“We were originally in Zootopia to sell predator food to the local food suppliers and we have been trying to meet with the Secretary of Commerce and the Director of the Department of Corrections to make arrangements to do so. We’ve been unable to sit down with them and finally decided to give up. We were on our way back to Deerbrooke via the Bunnyburrow route as it happens to be nearer to where we live. We planned to meet several of the local grocers along the way to introduce our products for their consideration.” Emmitt responded automatically, slipping easily into the cover story he had prepared for such an event. “Now that all the food is gone, we’re going to have to cut the trip short and head home directly.”

“That still doesn’t explain the smell of fox all over your vehicle or what happened to your food. This is a long trip, you’d need to stock up your vehicle if you wanted to avoid starving.” insisted the minute doe. “We could charge you with aiding and abetting criminals and given the current state of affairs, I don’t think your Deerbrooke citizenship will protect you under the current treaty.”

“Captain? If I may explain?” interjected Olivia. “My Emmitt will not tell you what happened, being the gentlemammal that he is. It involved a little bit of...impromptu skinny dipping in a river that we came across. You see, we are both members of a naturalist club in Deerbrooke which encourages us to revert back to our natural habits every so often. It leads to a wonderful and fulfilling sex life. That’s also where we got the fish that’s in the freezer.”

“Olivia, you don’t-”

“Hush, Emmitt! I prefer to tell them the truth rather than lie about our...kinky side.” she admonished him, slightly blushing as she did. “Anyway, I saw this beautiful spot and I insisted Emmitt park the RV inside the forest while we ‘frolicked’. We must have left the door open while we were away. I surmise that’s how the two foxes got in without us noticing. When the incident with the Corporal happened, they suddenly burst out of the baggage space and managed to grab all our food before they escaped. I was tending to my Emmitt. Did you expect me to stop them?

“Speaking of that insane mammal,” her face contorted with rage, “I will be reporting this abhorrent treatment of Deerbrooke citizens to our government and you can be sure there will be repercussions.”

“Now, hold on!” the pudu indignantly exclaimed, “If anyone should be held accountable, it’s you two. How come you weren’t able to smell those two foxes inside your vehicle? I definitely got a snoutful the moment I stepped in. Why should we believe you? And why didn’t they kill you while they had the chance?”

“Captain,” Olivia replied coldly, “did you happen to notice a can of Musk Mask on the floor?”

The tiny deer chose not to answer, choosing to glare accusingly at the pair she was interrogating.

“Captain?” asked the elephant quietly, “I believe she deserves an answer, don’t you think? After all, it is the polite thing to do.” he gently chided her.

Grudgingly, the pudu nodded her head, mentally recalling that had been one of the many inconsistencies she had noticed.

“There’s your answer, Captain,” Olivia shot back, her eyes fiery with emotion. “They took my Emmitt’s stash of expensive Musk Mask to hide their distinctive scent. As for why they chose not to kill us,” she shrugged, “I can’t answer that. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Veronica didn’t like the attitude of the female otter. She clambered up onto the top of the examining table in the ambulance and was about to tear into her when she was interrupted.

“Captain,” interrupted Colonel Hathi, “the purpose of the surprise checkpoints was to flush out our quarry. It worked, but the longer we linger here, the farther they’ll get.

“As for our _guests_ ,” turning to face the otters, “it seems we are at what they call a stand-off. Unfortunately, we cannot corroborate their story nor do we have any evidence to the contrary. And although we could press charges, we do have the unfortunate incident started by one of our own.

“Now, my dear,” he directed his words to Olivia, “in this situation, we could both go ahead and press charges against one another. This will mean that we will have to detain you while we process your case. This could take anywhere from a week to a month. And, I did happen to see a beautiful photograph of a loving family on the dash. If you’ve been here in Zootopia for some time, I would hate to delay a long-awaited family reunion because of red tape. If both parties agree that this incident never happened, I think we can let you both go once the repairs on your vehicle are done. What say you?”

* * *

  
Nick and Finnick melted into the cover of the forest, putting as much distance between themselves and the RV as quickly and quietly as they could. After the zebra had walked away, Nick had tried to help Emmitt as he writhed on the floor, his body violently twitching as his muscles spasmed, but Olivia instructed them to use the maintenance hatch in the floor to escape under the RV. Finnick had to drag Nick out by his tail as he did not want to leave them. In Olivia’s haste to return to her husband’s side, she inadvertently lost her grip on the hatch as she was shoving their backpacks through, causing it to thunk down loudly. The noise had caught the attention of that zebra. As the foxes hid under the RV, they felt the entire vehicle shake as it nearly crushed their heads as the sound of tortured metal groaning and shattered glass tinkling assaulted their ears. The suspension creaked as a large mammal attempted to force its way into the RV. Hearing. the zebra’s threat, it took all of Finnick’s strength to prevent Nick from jumping out to Olivia’s defense. Once the ruckus had died down, they used the brief moment of reprieve to scurry out on the opposite side from under the vehicle, sprinting as quietly as they could to the safety of the forest using the thick foliage near the road as cover. Once they were in the safety of the woods, they turned back to check if anyone was following them. With no sound of pursuit, it seemed they had not been seen.

Despondent, Nick prayed to whatever gods he could think of to watch over the pair. It ate away at him, knowing he had abandoned them like a coward. But he had not been given a choice. If he had stayed and fought, they’d be full of bullet holes. And he had to think of his friend as well. The bitterness of the situation was a hard pill to swallow. To cope, he forced himself to focus on their escape for now. He would let his inner demons torment him later on; for now, they needed to put as many miles between the RV and themselves as possible.

With each step they took, he grew more and more anxious. That checkpoint was such a close call, his fur bristled the entire time. And if the PP somehow found out they were hiding in the couch, then they’d soon have prey on their trail. They had no way of knowing, though. They could fall asleep one night and wake up with a gun to their foreheads, or never be haunted by the Predator Patrol again.

As such, they tried to move as quickly as possible, despite the heaviness of their backpacks. The weight was unpleasant and cumbersome, hurting their backs and adding pressure to their legs. What would have been an easy hill to climb became something seemingly twice as steep thanks to the added burden on their backs. They could not complain, though. What they carried were the personal sacrifices of their newfound companions. Those otters had given them everything they themselves needed for the long trip back to Deerbrooke, and that thought was like an arrow through Nick’s caged heart. He was officially a burden to those kind mammals, and they might never even make it back to their home. They could end up in prison for the rest of their lives, if they were lucky. Their kindness could rip apart their entire livelihoods, leaving their kits orphaned, fending for themselves. It hurt him. It hurt him so much that it reminded him of the intense pain he felt back when he realized his own life was condemned to a plantation under the Robinson name. How much he cried while he frantically clawed at the mud beneath his paws, desperately trying to make it back to his wonderful mother. Nick couldn’t even scream as a muzzle was strapped around his head, squeezing down on his jaw, nearly cutting off circulation. He still remembered her expression as he was taken away from her. Now, anytime his thoughts drifted to his old life, he’d only see that distraught look chiseled onto his mother’s face as she too fought to remain by his side. Her wails were forever entrenched in his memory, as were the streams of tears that flooded down her face.

Shucking the backpack off and into the dirt, Nick collapsed against a tree and planted his face in his knees. His emerald eyes grew misty, darker and lifeless, as they hid behind his eyelids.

“C’mon, Nick!” Finnick whined. “We can’t stop here to take a break. We need to keep walking or else they’ll catch up to us. We can stop somewhere else later on and have some of those sandwiches Missus O’ made for us.”

“I can’t, Fin!” Nick wailed in anguish, throwing his paws up in the air. “They’re goners, for sure. _We_ put them in danger. Now, while _we’re_ scot-free, they could be rotting in prison or worse, dead! They didn’t deserve that! I should have stayed and surrendered to the authorities. That way, they’d both be alive now.”

The fennec reached a paw out, placing it on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered, “I don’t like it either. They’re good folk. But it’s too early to say that they’re dead. Besides, if ya’d gone and did that, there’s no telling what those bastards woulda done. They mighta killed ya _and_ the O’s as well.”

Nick chose to further bury his head in his knees, curling his body into a ball, openly weeping.

Finnick sighed and sat down besides his partner. He grabbed a bottle of water from his pack and took a much needed sip. Dusk was falling and they had been on the run for close to six hours. Looking around the spot they were in, he realized it was as good as any to set up camp for the night.

“Why?”

Finnick leaned back against the pack he had been carrying, paws clasped behind his head, choosing not to answer the sobbed question as he looked up at the sky. Although he had star-gazed before while in the slave camp, it was different this time. As the stars slowly presented themselves in the darkening night, he reflected that he was seeing them now as a free mammal. And they never looked so good.

“Why do bad things happen, Fin? Especially to the mammals we love and care for? What did they ever do to deserve their fate?”

The fennec shrugged. “Ya got me there, Wilde. I ain’t got no time for that philosophical shit. But, I can tell ya that if we stay here, ya’d be throwing away their sacrifice and that’d be a damn shame.”

“But they shouldn’t have had to make the sacrifice in the first place, Fin!” Nick whined in frustration, wrapping his tail around himself. “We would’ve been fine if we had refused their help. _They’d_ be fine.”

Finnick sighed. “Listen here, bud. Remember what Mister O’ was telling us in the RV? We’re heroes! Other preds look up to us. We’re an inspiration to them. If we give up now, just as we’re this close to the border,” holding up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart, “then, whaddya think’s gonna happen to our friends back in the camp? Or for that matter, them other preds in slave camps all over Zootopia? They’d give up, too, Nick. They’d just roll over and let them dirty prey do whatever they’d want to do with them. And how many more kits’re going to suffer coz we just up and quit? For fuck’s sake, them Robinsons just bought ten new young vixens! You damn well know what’s gonna happen to them!”

Nick was brought back to the beginning of their impromptu RV trip. The radio was turned on by Emmitt, hoping to catch some good music. But similar to their time shortly after their escape, they heard the radio station once again speaking about them. This time, it was describing the latest crisis: slaves were becoming rowdier back in Zootopian homes and prison camps. Apparently, those predators routinely talked about the escaped foxes, rooting for them, even calling them heroes. It added much more weight to their escape. Now, they were not just doing it for themselves and their companions at the Robinsons’; they had millions of slaves watching them, being _inspired_ by them. They were giving hope to the hopeless.

Shaking his head, Nick brought himself back to the present. “...That’s not fair, Fin.”

“Life ain’t fair, Wilde. Ya shoulda known that by now.”

“We didn’t ask to be heroes,” Nick whispered. “All we wanted...was to have a taste of freedom. Is that too much to ask?”

“That Louis King fellow didn’t ask to be a damn martyr, Wilde. Yet, he died trying to do something good for us preds. Sometimes,” the fennec shrugged, “greatness is thrust onta ya and ya gotta take it by the horns and ride the tiger by the tail.”

“...What the hell are you talking about, Fin? You sound like a stupid fortune cookie wasted on weed.”

“Don’t get up my ass, Wilde!” Finnick snarled. “I ain’t no gaddamn psycho-whatsis! All I know is that when fate hands ya a buncha lemons, ya don’t go whinin’ about how sour they are! Ya go make some fuckin’ juice wid it, ‘kay?”

Nick sighed as he nodded. He hated to admit it, but the little fox had a point. They had become heroes, albeit reluctant ones. They now had an obligation to their fellow slaves to do their best to cross over into Deerbrooke, tell their story to the mammals in charge and hope that they could help them. Although, while he didn’t know if the Deerbrooke government could do anything, their story could at least be told to the rest of the world. And he had a debt to repay to the Ottertons. If they didn’t make it back, then he would make damn sure that their kits would have someone to look out for them.

Putting on a neutral face, Nick tried to bring them back on track. “Well, if we’re going to even make it to Deerbrooke... then we need to stretch out our food. No telling how long it’ll take us to get to there on paw. As per Emmitt, Bunnyburrow is ninety-five percent prey and we may not be able to go into town at all. Our faces would stick out like a sore paw among these country bumpkins.”

“Fox, I’m eating tonight. Rationing can wait.”

“Okay, Fin, we’ll eat tonight. But that means we’ll have to watch it from here on out. Okay?”

Finnick groaned. He wished he never got used to eating so much back at the Ottertons’.

* * *

 

Cracking open one eye and peering through a branch of leaves, Nick was greeted by the dark, smudgy blue of the early-morning sky. Faint dots could still be seen, no longer shining like stars, dulling out as the sun slowly rose to take their place. Nick noticed a cool, moist breeze ruffle his fur, nearly making him shiver as if his fur itself was wet. Slowly breathing in, the fox smelt the freshness of morning: the dew on the grass, the fragrance of nearby flowers, the distinct smell of dried sap from the tree he and Fin had climbed in case they were being tracked. It was a wonderful combination, and it almost lulled him back to sleep.

His muzzle opening widely, Nick shut his eyes again as he stretched every limb of his body, lifting his arms and legs off the large branch he lay on as a deep yawn escaped him. He really didn’t want to get up. That stretch only made his body feel heavier as his limbs fell once again, unmoving as he pondered why exactly they _had_ to start moving again so soon. His back was killing him. Trees were not known to be comfortable _._

So he laid there, his thoughts his only company as they desperately tried to both entertain him and keep him awake. By the time he had opened his eyes for the second time, the sky had turned brighter with a slight pink hue to it. A single bunny-shaped cloud had also moved in, taking in the color of the backdrop it traveled upon. He frowned as it seemed he had seen that very same cloud just after their escape. Dismissing it as a figment of his imagination, he went back to reviewing the world around him.

He normally found little interest in the colors of the morning. But with his newfound freedom, despite being a fugitive, he was learning to appreciate natural beauty a little more. It added to his freedom **.**

He still hated mornings, though. Foxes, while originally crepuscular, had evolved to become nocturnal mammals. This meant that most foxes despised mornings with an extreme passion. Nick was one of them.

Not knowing whether to be angry at the fact it was already morning or to be amazed by its beauty, he decided to ignore it. Sitting up, he brushed out his fur with his paw, flattening some particularly-ruffled spots. Feeling a certain emptiness in his stomach, Nick reached over and grabbed his backpack. On top were several jars of home-canned salmon, courtesy of Olivia. Bringing two out, he immediately began to open one. He was starving.

The moment the smell of fish hit Finnick’s nose, he awoke from his dreams. “Argh… Fish?” he murmured, his eyes squinting in the growing light. “Yo, open…” he yawned, “...me one.”

“Nope. These are for me. Get your own.” Nick was grinning as he said this. Of course the second jar was for Finnick. “C’mon, wakey wakey.”

Sitting up, Finnick tried to snatch the unopened jar from Nick. “Give,” he barked.

“Here you go, bud,” Nick said sweetly, chuckling at the groggy fennec as he tossed it over. “You know, I _was_ going to open yours, too.”

“Pfft.” Rubbing at his eyes, Finnick’s mouth began to water.

Shrugging, Nick began to eat his food. It was barely anything, and he wished he could’ve dipped his paw back into the backpack for another. But they had quite the journey ahead of them. They had to conserve what they had. And perhaps they could find something along the way. Only luck was stopping them from finding some wild fruit.

Taking a moment to yawn, Nick then stood up and began to climb further up the tree. “Whatcha doin’?” Finnick asked, slightly bewildered.

“Just taking…” he paused to jump up a little, grabbing a branch, “a look around.”

Rolling his eyes, Finnick went back to eating. A few leaves and twigs fell down onto his head when Nick hopped onto a branch directly above him. “Idiot, watch it!” He grew more annoyed as he heard that damned fox chuckle. “Ya goin’ to kill yourself!”

Pointing to himself, Nick said, “Fox, remember? I’m fine.”

Reaching the top, Nick noticed just how few trees there actually were. If they had continued walking instead of sleeping, they would’ve quickly emerged from the trees and into a very open and vast plain. Thankfully, the road they had been following did not have a good view of the area as it was elevated far above it and angled away. But anyone could just take a minute to stop by the edge of the road, look down, and see them quite clearly. Nick barely resisted the urge to pull at his sweater’s collar.

“Yo, Fin. You’re not going to like this.”

“Not like what?”

“Well… come up here and take a look.”

Running his paw down his face in exasperation, the fennec climbed up after his companion. When he saw the layout of their route, he scowled. “Great.”

“The grass is tall, at least. We should be able to use it for cover.”

“Well c’mon, lanky ass, daylight’s burnin’.”

“Why did I bring you along, again?” he huffed in a joking manner.

* * *

  
After three days of trekking through the forest while consulting Emmet’s map to avoid the known PP routes, they finally reached the edge of a town called Harrington. Passing by its welcome sign, Finnick’s mouth hung open as he saw the population counter gain another thousand bunnies every five seconds, slowly reaching twenty-million. And judging from the map, this town was relatively small.

“Holy shit,” whispered Finnick as he tried to read the sign. “That’s a lot of bunnies!” he gulped. “This town is tiny, where could they be hiding?”

Nick shook his head. “No way, Fin! It’s a hustle. Twenty-million bunnies, in this small of a town? We’d be up to our ears in the furry devils if that was true. Though… it’s probably still a lot…” he trailed off, taking a moment to shudder at what a town must be like in this country. All the bunnies running around, spitting their anti-pred nonsense. It made his fur stand on end, his muscles nearly freezing in anxiety. He couldn’t imagine what they’d do to them if they were caught. “Let’s... not go near Harrington, alright? Or any other town **.** ”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” his companion agreed, giving Nick the map. “Just point me where to go.”

Withdrawing further into the forest, the two foxes sought a secluded glen where they would not be seen or heard. By chance, there was a large hollow tree that had been uprooted during a storm lying on its side where the two made shelter for the night. As Nick carefully rationed out their food, Finnick went to a nearby stream to refill their canteens. After adding the purification tablets and shaking them gently to make sure they dissolved properly, he turned to go back to their hidden campsite. Something dark blue caught the corner of his eye. Taking a better look, he noticed it looked like a blueberry bush. Grinning happily, he took several pawfuls and stuffed them into his pants. _Damn, these’ll make a tasty dessert. It’s been sometime since we had these. Missus O’ made a damn good blueberry pie._

The memory of the kind female otter made the small fox stop in his tracks to wipe a tear from his eye. All they had left of the otters was the supplies they had so generously given them. By now, they were probably languishing in prison, and he’d never be able to give them proper thanks for all they had done. _Damn, can’t let Wilde see me like this. He’s gonna yank my chain all the way to Deerbrooke. He don’t need to know nuthin’ ‘bout stuff in my head right now. Once we’re in Deerbrooke, we can see how we can help the O’s...if they’re not dead yet._

The fennec joined Nick back inside the log and they slowly ate the food Nick had rationed out for them. Although he knew why they had to stretch out their food, it didn’t make the small fox happy. He was used to eating two square meals a day and their escape was putting a toll on his smaller body given that they had initially been eating whatever they could find along the way. The time with the Ottertons had revived his ravenous appetite and try as he might to control it, his stomach demanded a reckoning each night.

Remembering the blueberries in his pockets, he waited till Nick went to refill their canteens. He emptied his pockets, eyed the pile then split it three ways. He quickly gobbled up one pile in case the taller fox came back. _Urk! These ain’t as good as the ones Missus O’ served us,_ grimacing at the slight off-taste. _Oh, well, probably needed a few more days on the vine,_ he surmised.

When Nick came back, he waved at the remaining two piles. “Don’t say I never did anything for ya, Wilde. Found some blueberries near the river. There’s your share over there. Not as good as the ones in the pie Missus O’ made for us but, hey, beggars can’t be choosers, right?” he slyly grinned.

“Sure, Fin, sure,” Nick said, rolling his eyes dramatically. Reaching out for a berry, he paused as he inspected the fruit. “Where did you get these?” he asked nervously.

“Near the river. Why?” asked the fennec, as he continued to toss more berries into his mouth.

Quickly grabbing the small fox’s paw, Nick knocked the berries out of them.

“What the fuck, Wilde?” he snarled, snatching his paws away. “Ya gat a death wish or sumthin’? Those were my berries. I’m still hungry, ‘kay? I oughta bite your face off for that!”

“Fin,” Nick began, worriedly wringing his paws, “remember you had me memorize the Scout’s Manual?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I’m pretty sure those aren’t blueberries. Real ones are dusty blue. In fact, when we were at the farmhouse where that young hyena got shot, I had a couple from a bush nearby where I was hiding. These,” pointing at his pile, “are dark blue, almost violet. If I remember correctly, these are nightshade.”

“Wh-wh-what do you mean?” the fennec began to pull at his sweater collar, sweating nervously, not liking where the conversation was going

“I only remember that there were many warnings about this particular berry as it looks too similar to the blueberry. There was a footnote about how in olden times, assasins used this as their choice of poison to kill their targets.”

“Shit! Aah'm a gonna die?”

“Well,” nibbling nervously at his knuckle, “not if you only ate one or two. A pawful could be deadly. I’m glad I stopped you from eating anymore though.” he smiled.

The little fox managed to turn as white as a sheet despite his sandy fur covering.

* * *

  
“Stupid, greedy fennec stuffing his face with all sort of junk and now I gotta get him an antidote ‘coz he couldn’t stop feeding his face.” Nick grumbled as he made his way into the nearby town.

He stuck to the shadows and dark alleys, effortlessly slipping in and out, all the while keeping alert for any strange noise or scent. He felt twitchy all over as he moved, nervously scanning the streets for any rabbits. A few times he mistook a strange object or shadow for one, causing him to stiffen as his muscles tightened. He wanted to avoid any populated area as much as possible. He couldn’t help but imagine the cruelties the bunnies would inflict upon him if he was caught.

As he navigated the streets, his mind wandered to the conversation he and Finnick ended up having with Emmitt while they had stayed in his cottage. To get the medication Finnick needed, he’d likely have to talk to a store clerk and closely follow the otter’s advice.

“ _Now, boys, you should avoid going into any towns or cities in Bunnyburrow since you would be instantly recognized. However, if you really need to do so, use these old sweaters and pull them up all the way your neck as if your hiding a Shock Collar, like I did when you first met me. Now, the laws regarding predators are not as strict in Bunnyburrow unlike in Zootopia. Predators are allowed to run errands for their masters unescorted, however you need to act like a slave. If you don’t, then they’d grow suspicious and the jig would be up_.”

Utilizing his pawpads, he silently padded over to the side of a building where he spotted a store where the sign said, _Hopps’ Apothecary_. Judging by the universal symbol of the winged staff surrounded by two snakes plus a mortar and pestle on the window, Nick figured this was the local drugstore. He scanned his surroundings, making sure there were no prey hanging around. Pulling up the turtleneck sweater he found in his knapsack, he trotted over to the door, and quickly entered, hoping to sneak in and out without alerting the proprietor. Unfortunately, the bell attached to the door scuttled his plans. He heard someone call out, “Coming!” and he had no choice but to revert to Plan B if he wanted to save Finnick.

Using what time he had, Nick scanned the closest shelves to him, looking for some sort of antidote for the plant’s poison. He didn’t want to steal but he had no money to pay for the medicine. _Or,_ he thought, _Maybe_ _I could guilt trip them into giving me the medicine. Say I’ll pay them back later._

“Be right with you!” the voice called out. “Just have to bring these boxes down. No one else is here so you’ll have to bear with me. My dad said he needed this stuff tonight so you can imagine the fuss he’s going to raise if I don’t bring it home. He’s been after me this whole week. I tell you,” he heard a definitely female voice continue making small talk, “I swear if I didn’t have my head screwed down, I’d be walking around like a headless chicken.” he heard her laugh. It was musical, almost magical. The female voice was soothing, making him feel welcome, not unlike the way Olivia had welcomed him and Finnick into their home. It made him to want to just relax and curl up in a corner.

Regaining the seriousness of the situation, he shook off the feeling and mentally chastised himself. This was likely a prey mammal in a land that supported predator slavery, and that meant they were dangerous. He was not safe.

But he _felt_ safe. He couldn’t understand it.

Realizing he had a larger window of time than he expected, he decided to not let it pass. “Take your time, miss. I’m in no rush,” he called back as he hurriedly rushed up and down more aisles of the shop, looking high and low for any medicine he could snatch. That was until he heard the voice in the back yell, “Look out!” followed by a thud and a resounding crash. He rushed to the back where the sound came from and found a large box on its side along with a broken ladder lying on the floor. But there was no sign of the owner.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Nick called out.

“Oh, dear,” the voice squeaked from above, “I’m just as clumsy as well as forgetful,” she sighed as he glanced up to see a grey doe hanging just by her paws to the top of the shelf as she looked down at him. Unfortunately, her skirt had ridden up and when he looked, the sight of a perky panty-covered behind topped by a cute little tuft of a tail with legs to die for made him blush to the roots of his ears.

Looking quickly back down, he stammered out, “H-h-how can I help?” He couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Can you just put the ladder back so I can make my way down? I don’t mind hanging here as it’s good exercise for my arms but I can’t gain a pawhold on the shelves and I need to make my way down. Father will be needing that box tonight. Be a good mammal, please, kind sir.”

She seemed unaffected by his presence, his predator aura, he noticed. _It has to be a trap_ , his instincts supplied. _Get out while you can._ “I’m afraid the ladder is broken, miss.” Nick didn’t understand why he remained there. His body refused to move.

“Oh...now that really is a bother. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to catch me, then.”

“What!” Nick’s mind was awhirl as he looked up only to see her let go of the shelves. He instinctively put out his arms to catch her. He swore he heard her screaming, “Whee!” as she fell. A second later, he found a beautiful bunny in his arms as he stared into her piercing amethyst eyes while she grinned from ear to ear. His fur was puffed out, but out of extreme fear or something else, he couldn’t tell.

“Well done, good sir,” she gleefully clapped. “I am forever in your debt. Do you make it a habit of saving damsels in distress?” she giggled, covering her mouth with a dainty paw.

Nick stood frozen, mouth open, completely lost in the doe’s lavender eyes, surrounded by her scent of spring flowers after a rain. She lay relaxed in his arms, not scrabbling to get out of them, despite the fact that he was a predator. He had stopped thinking at this point and was shaken out of his reverie when she cleared her throat.

“Err...not that I’m ungrateful, but I believe a gentlemammal waits until at least the third date to start feeling up his partner’s rear.”

Completely embarrassed, Nick gently set her down, unobtrusively arranging her skirt, and then took on the slave position of obeisance as Emmitt had taught him: head down, not looking up nor looking directly into their eyes, paws at his side and kneeling down. He knew he was screwed. There was no way out of the situation he had gotten himself into. The only chance he had was to put on an act.

“Forgive this poor wretch, miss,” he whispered, “I should be punished for my indiscretion. If you wish to lash me, I will not object for I am not worthy to be in the same room as you. My master will be pleased that you dealt out the proper punishment.” he grovelled. He had suffered the whip before in the prison camp so his backside was not a stranger to the pain. He hoped to convince the beautiful young doe that he was on an errand for his master so that she would not ask too many questions. Hopefully, she would believe his story and he’d get back in time to save Finnick from the slow death from the poison.

He did not expect what happened next.

She came up to him, placed a paw on one shoulder while she lifted his chin so that he looked directly into her face. He tried to look away as Emmitt had instructed him but she would not have any of it. “No,” she gently admonished, guiding his chin back in order to make eye contact, “you have nothing to be sorry for. You are a mammal just like me. You breathe the same air as I do. Granted, we may have different diets, but other than that, if you were to bleed, I am sure the colour of your blood would be the same as mine. And I am sure you weep, laugh and feel emotions just like I do. Please,” throwing her arms around his neck to hug him, “never say that you are inferior to me. You and I are more alike than what the current laws unfairly state. And it is I who is in your debt, not the other way.”

Nick’s mind short-circuited. A prey mammal was hugging him. And not just any prey mammal. A bunny. The kind his ancestors had hunted and eaten millennia ago. He was her ancestral enemy. And yet, she did not hesitate to throw her arms around his neck. Freely. Unafraid. She did not care that his sharp teeth were inches from her throat. He just hoped she would not notice he was collarless.

Slowly, he raised both paws up to her shoulder level. They trembled and shook uncontrollably. Finally giving in to his instincts, he forced them to move...and returned her hug. Closing his eyes and melting into her embrace, he sighed as he drunk in her scent. He greedily partook in the hug, his body hardly remembering the last time he had even received one. That is till his mind supplied the missing connection: his mother was holding him the night before they were separated, whispering a sweet lullaby as she tucked him into bed. He had to hold back his tears as it would not do to let a prey see weakness.

They stayed that way until his knees began to bother him. “Er, miss, not to be disrespectful, but this position is rather uncomfortable. Do you mind?”

Sighing, she released her hold around his neck. “It’s Judy.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“My name is Judy. Judy Hopps. Owner and proprietor of this store. Please call me Judy. Miss sounds too pretentious.”

“Judy it is, then. Thank you.” he nodded as he got back on his paws and tried to assume the submissive position again. “I’m here on an errand for my master. He needs medicine for food poisoning. It seems he had foolishly eaten the fruit from the Nightshade plant and I’m here to procure some for him. We’re not from Harrington. We’re visiting from out town and he was too ill to come here which is why he sent me. He did not have any cash on him as we arrived when the banks were all closed but he promises to settle his bill before we leave town.”

“I see,” the young doe said, repeatedly tapping her left hind paw on the floor adorably, as she cupped her chin in her paw as she looked up at him, “and how dumb of a bunny do you think I am, Mr. Fugitive Fox?” she snickered.

Stunned, Nick quickly shook his head in the negative, “I don’t know what you mean. I’m a slave-”

“Stop that!” Judy scowled impatiently. “It’s insulting to continue this charade. Now, unless you want me to alert the authorities, I think I am entitled to the truth.” She wasn’t actually going to do that; she couldn’t do that to the poor fox, but she needed answers.

Sighing, Nick slumped against the wall, rubbing his eyes with his paws. “What gave me away?” he finally murmured, watching the bunny carefully. This is what he was afraid of. He needed to figure something out, and fast. Perhaps he could get her talking, buying him more time to formulate an escape plan.

“Well, for someone who claims to be the slave of a prey animal, all I could smell was yours and another fox’s scent on you. Then, you readily agreed to call me by my first name. Slaves who have been indoctrinated for a long time find it hard to overcome that, no matter what the situation. Then, there’s your story. If a rabbit truly ate the Nightshade plant, he would not fall ill. The only ones who would be affected are canines and felines. Lastly, I didn’t feel a collar around your neck when I hugged you.” she smirked.

“I was worried you'd notice that,” he sighed. “This is the best I was able to come up with in such short notice. You are quite observant, I’ll give you that. Have you ever thought of becoming a detective?”

“And now you are deflecting. Nick, why are you here? Is your friend ill?”

Doing a double-take, he stared at her wide-eyed. “How did-,” he began until he realized that their names were probably well-known in prey-controlled areas. “Of course you’d know my name,” he scowled.

Rolling her eyes, she waved a paw impatiently as she continued. “Well, how many fugitive foxes has the Zootopian government in a tizzy? Really, you’ve been on the airwaves so much, every kit in Bunnyburrow knows your name by now. You would not enter an area populated by prey not unless it was very important. And since your friend isn’t with you, I surmise that he’s the one who needs the antidote, am I correct?”

Nick nodded dejectedly. “You are.”

“Then, why are you wasting time?” she raged. “Time is of the essence. The sooner we get the antidote to him, the better his chances are of recovering!” She spun on her heel and took out a medical bag from behind the counter.

Quickly striding towards the front of the store, she reached out to grasp his paw as she passed him, pulling him along. “C’mon! Take me to him and hurry!” she urged.

Yanking his paw from her grasp, Nick’s ears flicked back as he jerked away from her, stopping his subconscious growl. “So that you’ll know where he is? So that you can call the Predator Patrol on him? Over my dead body, _bunny_. You may have sussed me out, but you’re not getting your paws on him. I know what happens to a slave when the PP catches them. I'm sure he'd prefer to take his chances with the poison rather than let himself fall into their cruel paws.”

Judy’s features softened when she heard that, making a note to ask him about it later, if he’d be willing to share. She knew how ruthless the Predator Patrol was, and she did not want to imagine what they would’ve done to someone Nick knew. “I’m not like them, Nick. Haven’t I done enough to earn your trust?” She moved her paw to caress his cheek, but noticed he retreated from her, flinching as his eyes narrowed. “Despite me knowing your identity, I’ve yet to alert the authorities, even though I’ve had plenty of opportunities. And the best way to ensure your friend’s survival is for _me_ to be there. The antidote will only work if it is administered properly. I will need to adjust it based upon his species, the amount of poison he ingested, and his body weight. I’ve treated this before. You haven't, right?” 

Nick’s eyes moved to the floor, torn apart by his emotions. He had been thinking of jumping her to wrench the medical bag out of her paw as Fin’s salvation seemed to be in it. But her words made sense. He might end up killing his friend instead of being his savior.  
  
“I know you’ve been hurt by prey, particularly by rabbits. I actually know a few Robinson’s, and believe me, I wish I could knock some sense into those bastards.” Stepping away from Nick, she gestured to the back exit of the shop. “Obviously, I cannot do that. But I can still give them the metaphorical middle finger by helping you. What do you say, Nick? Please, give me a chance.”

Whining in frustration, Nick paced around in the shop, clutching his tail around himself. Her logic was sound, yet he couldn’t bring himself to trust her. Why would she risk her own life to help him? Unlike the Ottertons, she was prey. She had less reason than even they did. Why would she care about him at all? He could only imagine the exaggerated stories she had been told about predators. Ones that depicted them all as bloodthirsty savages that would steal brothers and sisters from them in the middle of night. She should be running from him **.**

Just as he decided that he and Fin would be safer without her around, she suddenly returned to his side and grasped his wrists, effectively stopping his pacing. His head snapped back to her, and she could swear she saw him began to snarl. “I meant what I said,” she whispered, looking deep into his emerald eyes. “We are equals. The current laws are beyond cruel to you, to all predators. I wasn't even going to call the authorities on you; it was purely a bluff to get some answers **.** Plus,” she paused, her voice trailing off as she slowly raised a paw to his muzzle, just barely stroking his fur as he exposed more of his canines in a snarl, “he is your friend, and I am in your debt. I want to help you both. What can I do or say to prove to you that I care?”

His jaw relaxed and tail began to slowly wag as he lost himself in her determined, lavender eyes. He thought of something before he lost all focus. “Would you be willing to come blindfolded? Would you trust me enough to guide you there, despite me being a wanted mammal, an uncollared predator? You won’t be afraid to leave your life in my paws?”

Chuckling, Judy scritched his neck, making Nick’s tail wag harder. Seeing that lifted her spirits. “Dumb fox,” she teased, “I’m already alone in here with you. My life is _already_ in your paws. Sure, as long as you lead me. Now,” she started, her eyes wide and pleading as her bottom lip quivered, “can we please go? I’ve got a fennec to save.”

Each second he looked into her face, his resolve broke little by little until he finally gave in with a groan. “That look should be illegal, Carrots,” he teased. A grey blur shot out and punched his arm, causing him to squint in pain.

Nursing his arm, he held onto the blindfolded, grinning doe’s paw as they made their way to the camp. _Who knew rabbits could hit so hard?_ He took a quick glance back at his adorable companion. _Totally worth it, though,_ he thought, smirking.


	7. As We Watch and Weep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Blueberry caper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Night Wolf0179’s A/N: Welcome back! This has been an interesting chapter to write. Not nearly as difficult as the other ones, but a challenge in its own right. It isn’t easy to get dialogue feeling… real, genuine, but I believe we are getting it right here. I want to portray these characters as well as possible. Of course, these are fictional beings, but I want them to interact in such a way that it feels like the interaction could be real, if you know what I mean.
> 
> So, please tell us if we are getting that right. XD
> 
> Beyond that, I hope this chapter is as enjoyable for you to read as it was for us to write. This might just be my favorite chapter to date. So please, enjoy! And we’ll catch you in chapter 8!
> 
> JKnight97’s A/N: So, here we are, almost a year since we published Chapter One of this collaborative story. Seven chapters in and we are starting to get into the meat of the story. Both NightWolf0179 and I agreed that we needed a lot of foundation building and it took several chapters to get that done. Now, this chapter has our favourite couple interacting more. And we’re very happy how it turned out. So as not to spoil anything, I’m shutting up now and directing you to the story below. Enjoy! 
> 
> For those who commented:
> 
> J Shute Norway: It was necessary. It was a surprise checkpoint and if they had stayed inside, they might have been caught. It was a sure bet there was going to be a more thorough inspection compared to the previous one.
> 
> Cimar and Stubat007: We have more planned for the striped villain we all love to hate but for now, buckle in and enjoy the ride. ;)
> 
> Combat Engineer: There will be a reckoning. How soon? All I’ll say is, “Wait and see.” XD
> 
> Again, thanks to our editors, @stubat007, @DancingLunarWolves, and @ErebusMonk. As always, you guys are invaluable, and we are thankful to have you guys along for the ride!
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters except OCs are owned by ©Disney. Any resemblance to actual persons or mammals, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Part Four

 

“So, how long am I going to be blindfolded for, exactly?”

A fox and a rabbit were quietly padding through a field of grass. The shorter one was barely visible with only the tips of her ears peeking through the grass. Her face scrunched up each time a blade of grass tickled her muzzle, causing her nose to wiggle from the sensation. She had no way to block the grass since both of her paws were occupied, one holding the medical bag and the other holding the fox’s paw.

“That information shall be kept secret, Fluff. Better start counting the seconds. I wouldn't hold my breath, though." he smirked. Huffing in frustration, Judy resigned herself to having to be patient, which was not her strong suit.

Nick circled back a third time through the same field. He suspected that she probably knew these lands like the back of her paw, so he was trying to trick her, make her lose track of where they were. He purposefully kept from walking in straight lines and from any sources of noise that would give her a clue of where they were. The familiar sound of a creek, for example, would make the blindfold useless.

“Just so we’re clear… the poison takes several hours before irreversible damage occurs, right?” Nick knew he was wasting a lot of time by traveling in a circuitous route and he did not want to come back to a dead fennec, but they’d both might as well be dead if she found out where they were hiding.

Judy’s ears perked a little higher. She was beginning to wonder just how educated her vulpine guide was.

One of his fingers slid to the bottom of her wrist, where her heartbeat would be easily felt, and gently pressed just as she spoke. That would’ve normally made her uncomfortable. However, she did not find it within herself to care. She had other matters at paw, so she mentally filed it away. “Mhm. About twelve hours. When did he ingest it?”

“Certainly not twelve hours ago.”

“So… how’d you educate yourself?” Nick nearly stumbled at her question, jerking Judy’s paw a little. “What? You’re very… articulate. Slave owners usually keep their slaves as far away from books and teachers as possible. But you seem to be very well-educated.” She suddenly gasped, realizing how that sounded. “That’s not saying predators are unintelligent, of course! I just assumed that you’ve never been given a chance to learn about the world around you.”

The fox scoffed, keeping his finger over the same vein in her wrist. The bunny wanted to say more, but his feather-like touches were very distracting. Almost sensual, in fact. She felt some heat radiating from her ears as her cheeks flushed with blood. Judy prayed he was not looking at her at the moment.

Swishing a branch away with disgust, he barked, “You have slaves also, don’t you? I’m not going to give you ideas as to how to keep your slaves dumb.”

Judy pulled Nick to a stop and lifted her head up to where she assumed his eyes were. “No, I do not. My family no longer owns slaves. We used to...but my parents decided we were better off growing our crops with our own two paws.”

“And why’d they decide that? Why the sudden change in heart?”

“...Something happened on the farm when I was young that made them change.”

“How’re you so successful, then? Your shop was quite well stocked.”

“You believe it takes slaves to be successful?” She raised an eyebrow without even realizing it. Not like he could see.

“Of course not. But…” he trailed off.

He was testing her and she knew it. “I would never use slave labor for any reason. When I see those that do… I can’t help but wonder where their souls are going once they meet The Maker like the rest of us. I especially hate it when companies claim that slaves are the reason they are so successful. Many years ago, you could easily create a perfectly good business without slaves. But those companies changed the laws, rigged the system.”

“But your shop _is_ doing well?”

“Hey, I never said it was impossible. Just that it’s more difficult. And I’m not _that_ well off, not really. It’s a family business, so the profits are spread thinly.”

“Hmm.” Nick pulled her along again and soon emerged from the grass. He didn’t particularly like being exposed like that, so he headed straight for a hill that would provide them with some cover. Once he reached its base, he lifted Judy’s arm a little, indicating to her that they’d no longer be traveling on flat ground and would be moving upwards instead.

“How many berries did your friend eat?”

“At least fifteen. You’d think he’d notice how differently they taste after the first two. But no, he just stuffed his maw.”

“Well, after everyth-” she stepped into a hole and would’ve face-planted into the dirt if it wasn’t for Nick catching her.”S-sorry. Oww…” she hissed in pain. She had twisted her hind paw as she fell.

“Here, let me take a look.” Grabbing her side, he guided her down until she was safely seated on the ground, the bag beside her. He began to gently feel around her ankle, probing and pressing the joint to determine the extent of her injury.

“It’s not that b-”

“Shh.”

“Nick, I used to help my father in our farm every day. I’ve hurt myself before-”

“Shhhh!” he insisted, continuing his inspection of her injury. She crossed her arms, slightly blushing at the almost intimate way he checked her hind paw. Judy tried to be defiant and annoyed, but the ghost of a smile graced her lips. “I’m sure you have, Hopps.”

“You have such soft paws, Nick, and such a bedside manner. Are you like this whenever Finnick gets a boo-boo?” the bunny teased.

“Oh, if I tried, he’d grab the nearest tree and try to beat me with it.” They both laughed at that.

“Then are you just trying to feel me up?”

“Let me answer that question with a question. Why does it sound like you don’t mind?”

“You’re deflecting, Wilde,” she laughed. “I asked you first.”

Thankful that she couldn’t see him blush, he chose to ask, “Does it hurt when I press here?” he asked, pressing his thumb at a spot just above her ankle.

Rolling her eyes underneath the blindfold at his continued deflection, she allowed him to get away with it. “No, but it does feel a bit stiff.”

He gently rotated her ankle a few times in his paw, listening for any untoward sounds to indicate she had injured her ligaments.

“Okay, I don’t feel anything broken and it looks fine. Probably a slight sprain. C’mon, get up, lazy pants. Time to go.”

“ _I_ could’ve told you that…” she grunted as she reached out to grab his paw. She gingerly tested her ankle as she followed in his steps; it didn’t feel too bad, and after a few strides, she didn’t notice any issues. “Back to the matter at paw. Has he felt any different?”

“Beyond extreme anxiety and paranoia? No, nothing.”

“For a mammal his size, that’s good.”

“He does try to act tough, though. Won’t let you see if something is bothering him, be it an illness or an injury. At least until it gets really bad or if _you_ are the cause of it.”

“I know mammals like that, yeah.”

“Don’t we all?” the fox quipped.

Nick started to move a bit faster when his chosen route opened up again. BunnyBurrow was known for its wide-open plains, and this was one such area. With a road not too far off in the distance, any mammal could turn their head and see a red smudge amongst the darkness. He groaned and moved more quickly, making a point to stick to the tallest grass and the lowest parts of the area.

“I swear, my fur is _not_ doing me any favors here,” he grumbled “I stand out like a black tick on an arctic hare’s white fur.”

“Well, I like your-” she stopped herself. “At least your fur is unique. Mine is just a boring grey.”

The fox looked at her and smiled a bit, but refrained from voicing his opinion. “Nearly there, Carrots. Doing okay back there? Need me to carry you the rest of the way?”

“Oh, har har, Wilde. You just want to fondle my butt again, don’t you?” she sassed back.

“I didn’t hear any complaints back in the store.”

This time, Judy tried to hide her own blush, hoping that the darkness concealed it from him.

As they entered the treeline, Nick pulled Judy closer to him, pushing branches out of their way to make sure none of them snapped back in her face. The sudden close contact made her quite giddy, her heart rate momentarily spiking. All too soon, Nick put some distance between them again as the foxes’ campsite came into view.

“Nick! Where’ve you…” Finnick’s eyes widened as Nick stepped nearer with Judy beside him. “The Fuck! You brought a bunny! Didja lose your senses? Ya fall off a log and hit your head?”

“Fin, buddy,” Nick chuckled, “meet Judy. She’s the one who’s going to administer your antidote.”

The look on Finnick’s face would have made him laugh his head off if it were not a serious matter. “What! Oh, no no no! You think I’m crazy? No, you the one that’s crazy, you son-of-a-bitch! I ain’t lettin’ no bunny touch me. And you led her here for that? I’m gonna knock your block off!”

“No need to point out the obvious, Fin, as my mom really is one. Although I would prefer if you used the more formal term, vixen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Relax, she was blindfolded the whole time.” He knelt down and began to take off the cloth obscuring Judy’s vision.

“You’re a fool, Nick! Keep it on!”

“We’ve been traveling for at least an hour and I’ve not seen a thing. I won’t be able to find my way back even after seeing your camp,” Judy assured, rubbing at her eyes when the cloth was removed.

“Stay out of this, rabbit!” The fennec was grinding his teeth, his entire body shaking. It looked like his body was torn between the need to bolt and the need to stay.

“For someone who’s supposedly ingested poisonous berries, he sure doesn’t sound like it, Nick,” Judy commented, letting her eyes get used to the low light in the camp. “Do you have some left? I’d like to examine them in proper lighting. I’ll need the flashlight in my bag.”

“And alert the patrol? Over your dead body, sister, and I’ll help you get there!” threatened the little fox as he balled his paws into fists, shaking one of them at her.

“Now hold on,” Nick intervened, placing himself between the irate fennec and his grey charge. “First of all, I made sure no one followed us. Second, we don’t have to do it out here. She can inspect the berries inside the log. Now, are you going to behave or do I have to put you over my knee?” Nick smirked. He knew it was not likely to help, but boy, did it feel good to say that.

“You try, Wilde, and you’re the one who’s gonna need her help, not me!”

Nick chuckled again and moved to grab the flashlight. “Just have some faith in me, alright bud? I promise you that I’ve taken all the necessary precautions. And for some reason… I feel like I can trust this particular bunny.”

“You’re still a fool,” Finnick muttered under his breath. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Regardless, he still kept his eyes on the bunny. On _Judy._ He never liked calling bunnies by their names while he was only called by his number or his species. This one seemed different, but just being in her presence made his fur stand on end.

Nick chose to ignore his friend as he entered the fallen hollow tree log, Judy following right behind him. As she did, she couldn’t help but notice how soft and bushy his tail looked. She had known another fox before, but the vulpine in front of her seemed more...masculine? Attractive? She wasn’t sure why she was thinking such things.

Inside the enclosed space, Judy squatted on her haunches and waited for Nick to pass her the flashlight and berries. As he gathered them up, she couldn’t help but notice the musky scent around her. It brought back memories of soft brown eyes and pudgy, red-furred cheeks. It made her smile until she noticed herself leaning closer to breathe in more of it.

“Here you go, Carrots,” Nick said, disturbing her thoughts as he passed the flashlight and berries he had gathered up from the floor. “I suppose I can understand how he could’ve mixed them up. But _still_ , I tried to have him read from the survival book I… _found_ for this very reason.”

“Found, huh?” She grinned as she inspected the fruit.

“Hey, it made its way back to its owner! Eventually. After they flunked their test.”

Judy shook her head in amusement. “Well, if I know anything about the Robinsons, I can’t find it within myself to care.” After a moment of continued inspection, she breathed out slowly, relief coursing through her. “Your friend there is lucky, Nick.”

“He is?”

“Mhm!” she chirped, eating one herself and giggling as he ogled her, like she had grown a second head.

“Maybe Finnick is right, maybe I am crazy. Did. You. Just eat one? Isn’t all nightshade poisonous?” His voice grew higher in pitch with each word. The fox blinked rapidly, but quickly stopped when he felt a strange pressure inside his skull.

“Did you forget already? I told you that Deadly Nightshade isn’t poisonous to rabbits. This, however,” she said, lifting one up, “is Black Nightshade, not Deadly Nightshade. The deadly one is almost jet black while this one looks almost like a blueberry. Except it doesn’t have the white dusting associated with that one. These taste almost like a cross between a tomato and an eggplant.”

His body suddenly felt heavier as his stomach tightened and constricted, but he did his best to ignore it as he quickly became overcome by anger. “Oh for the love of… _Fin_ ! Get your ass over here!” _All of this wasted time, all of it for nothing,_ Nick thought. He scurried out of the log and found the fennec looking at him as if he was a ghost.

“Ahm… ahm I gonna die?”

“Seriously? And you call me an idiot… No, you dumbass! It wasn’t even deadly. You made me waste hours! Hours of our time to go and get an antidote because of your impulsive stomach, hours that had me risking my tail, only to find out that the berries aren’t poisonous!” He shook his head in disappointment, and immediately regretted the movement as he saw two Finnicks instead of one.

“Hey, you’re the one who thought they were deadly!” Finnick pointed a clawed finger at Nick.

“To be fair,” Judy piped in, “they are _incredibly_ similar. You can only tell the difference by-”

“Oh, save me the lecture, cottontail!”

“Just…” Nick squeezed his eyes shut before he yelled again. “Sorry for yelling at you, bud. You’re okay, that’s all that matters. I’m… honestly glad you’re okay. You need to control that stomach of yours before you really do eat something you shouldn’t.” Nick faltered for a moment before he could speak again. “...Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he mumbled, a lightheadedness invading his head. “I’m feeling a bit woozy. Might...just…lay down for a bit.”

“Seriously? Did the bunny do something to you?”

“Hey! I’m right here, you know!”

“Nick, she can’t _stay_ here! You gotta to take her back now!”

Nick closed his eyes once more as the world spun like a top, stumbling backwards with his back hitting a tree trunk, sliding down to a sitting position. “Nick?” Judy called, furrowing her eyebrows in concern.

“I’m suddenly… not feeling good, Fin. I trust her. Just… just set up a spot for her or something.”

The bunny rushed to his side, grabbing hold of his wrist with one paw and placing the other on his forehead to check his temperature. “What’re you feeling right now? Dazed, nauseous?”

“Nick? _Nick!_ ” When his companion failed to answer, Finnick took position beside the taller fox, not liking how he was looking. “Answer the gal, bud. How’re you feeling?”

Unable to, Nick turned to face Judy. He shook his head as his vision blurred, exacerbating his already pounding headache. The next words that came out of Judy’s mouth came out as scrambled sounds to the fox. He smiled, attempted to grab her so that he could read her lips instead and blacked out.  
  


* * *

 

  
“All I’m trying to say is that a mammal of his size needs to eat more than a small jar of fish! Just one of those a day is not enough for him.” Nick shifted a bit, his ear flicking at the sound. He just wanted to sleep.

“Well, excuuuuuse me, rabbit! You try toughing it like we have! My whole body is _aching_. You can’t expect me to notice every little thing!” Finnick was back to pacing, the soft beating on the ground jarring Nick awake.

“In a scenario such as this, your main concern should be the health of both yourself and your partner. And you still haven’t told me just how long have you been rationing,” Judy asked insistently. “How often did you both eat at the slave camp prior to escaping? How much were you given to eat? I need to know your medical histories so that I can treat him! A prolonged fast isn’t good for you.”

“Neither is prolonged torture! Just… fine! Fine! Once a day, and just a jar each. And we’ve only been rationing for four days! That’s all you’re getting from me, I ain’t telling you nuthin’! I still don’t trust you bunnies!”

“Why, you little runt! If I don’t do anything, he could _die!_ Excuse me for wanting to-”

“Whoa, slow down there! When did the Pred-Prey War start all over again?” croaked Nick as he attempted to rise on his elbow as Judy ran to his side. “Oh, hello,” he mumbled, squinting his eyes as Judy’s came into his view. “What’s a beautiful nurse like you doing in a dump like this?”

“See, Fin? He’s delusional.” She grabbed a backpack and slid it under his head. “You brought me here, dumb fox! Now, don’t sit up; just relax.”

Nick chuckled, refusing Judy’s aid and sat up, much to her displeasure. “Since when is being truthful delusional?” he smirked.

“I-I-what?” Her eyes widened as the insides of her ears burned. “Wha-what did you say?” Tongue-tied, Judy was struck speechless by the dumb, handsome, virile fox with gorgeous red fur who easily disarmed her with compliments at the most inappropriate of times.

“Doesn’t matter. Why did I wake up on the ground with you two about to start Ragnarok?” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work the soreness out.

“You passed out, Nick. Don’t you remember? You nearly fell on me. You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“And your bunny friend here was trying to tell me what to do; how I’ve not been looking out for you. Like she knows what we’ve been through. She gets it easy, being born a bunny!”

“You were letting him starve! Get that pole out of your ass and just listen.” Nick had seen angry rabbits before, but never had he heard one growling like a predator as her ears stood at rapt attention, vibrating in anger.

“Why does everyone insist on calling me a mule? I’m a fennec, for cripes sake!”

“Shut up everyone, for one second!” Nick yelled, holding his aching head in his paws. “Dying fox here needs quiet!” The nausea came back.

Chastised, both Judy and Fin stopped their bickering. Nick nodded his thanks just before his eyes rolled into his head, fainting once again.  
  


* * *

 

  
Nick woke up, his head on something soft and smelling of field flowers. He revelled in the scent and feel of his pillow. They didn’t have anything like this back in the camp. As he rolled his head, he felt something scratch the back of his ears and a female voice calling his name. “Nick? You okay? C’mon, lazy fox, time to get up and eat.”  
  
“Aw, mom. Another five minutes, please?” he whined, pushing his head into the soft pillow and mewling appreciatively as the claws scritched a sensitive spot behind his ears. The pillow rumbled as he heard an angelic giggle from above.

“You’ve really turned into a sack of potatoes, haven’t you?”

“Hate potatoes. Mushy...grainy...”

“I take personal offense to that, Slick,” she chuckled. “You obviously haven’t tried my mom’s mashed potatoes. C’mon, get up. You’re heavy.” She softly poked him in the side a couple times and chuckled dejectedly when he flinched. “Ticklish? I’ll remember your weakness, Nick, especially if you don’t let me up.” Despite her half-hearted threat, she felt him continue to pin her down to the ground using his body weight. “Seriously, Slick, I’m worried about you. Healthy mammals don’t just… pass out like that. Twice. Fin,” turning to the smaller fox, a hint of distress in her voice, “help me out here, please.”

“Just eat a little, Nick” the fennec said, grabbing three jars of food. “You don’t even have to get up.”

Judy scowled at Finnick as he pawed over the jars to her, but sighed in resignation when she noticed the smile on Nick’s muzzle. He was comfortable and after seeing that, she no longer wanted him to move. “As long as he eats.” She agreed, patting his head and watching his chest slowly rise and fall. The fox on her lap was not doing well, but seeing him so tranquil calmed her.

“Look… I hate apologizing,” Finnick said, his body turned away from her. He was rummaging through the backpacks, finding something more for his companion to eat. “But you were right. I need to look out for that fleabag more. I’ll do that.”

Judy nodded her approval when he turned around. “It’s fine. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been for you two. There’s a lot to worry about.”

“Rabbit, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What happened to me, by the way?” Nick asked, perplexed by the sudden fatigue and shutdown of his body.

“My guess is that you experienced an adrenaline crash right after I told you that the berries weren’t poisonous. Coupled to this was the fact that you hadn’t been eating right, had been pushing yourselves ever since the checkpoint–yes, Fin, told me about it. I twisted it out of him.”

The fennec stood by rubbing his right arm. “Dat bunny don’t know her own strength,” he muttered under his breath.

“Anyway, because you were basically starving yourself, carrying the bulk of the food, pushing on relentlessly for the last four days _plus_ coming off the adrenaline high, it’s no wonder you collapsed. You need to regain your strength and if I have to force this food,” tapping the jars menacingly, “down your throat…”

“Ok, ok, Nurse Ratched. I’ll behave.” he smirked, holding his paws up in mock surrender.

The next hour went by in relative silence as Judy alternated between feeding Nick and giving him water. As she fed him, she noticed a certain dullness in his eyes, symptoms of his starvation, slowly fade the more he put away. She was pleased he was making a fast recovery and hoped it would not create future health problems for him. She didn’t know how poorly they were treated in the slave camps, but she made a mental note to ask him about it.

“You know, I’m enjoying being fed,” Nick piped up, jolting Judy from her thoughts.

“Nick! I swear, give a girl a heart attack!” she shook her head. “Feeling better now, then?” She flicked his nose and smirked at his offended expression as he rubbed it.

“Yes. Though unnecessary, as it was…”

“You fainted! Twice! Don’t you start that bull.”

“I agree with the cottontail for once.”

“You’re supposed to be on _my_ side.” Nick grumbled at the smaller fox. “And I think you have me confused, miss. I’m a vulpine, not a bovine.” he smirked at Finnick.

“Again with the species jokes,” said the fennec, rolling his eyes. “Not this time, bud. I’m worried about you.”

“Oh, so you _do_ care,” he said sweetly, placing clasped paws underneath his chin as he blinked flirtatiously at Fin. He then sighed, closing his eyes. “Sorry, I just… I don’t know. Not used to being cared for like this. I feel like a burden.”

“You’re _not_ a burden,” Judy insisted, intently looking into his eyes to further get her point across.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping, Fluff. I’ve never met a bunny like you.” She knew he was deflecting, but the comment stung a little.

“We’re… not all of us are like the Robinsons, like how not all foxes are hustlers or thieves.”

Finnick moved forward towards the bunny. “Well, how’d you feel, then, if you were enslaved by _foxes_? Think you’d want to become chummy with ‘em?”

Judy huffed, pushed Nick’s head off her lap and stood up, walking to the edge of the camp, her back to the two foxes. “There are bad mammals in each species; I hope I’d realize that and not judge judge an entire species by the actions of a small group of them. But if I was enslaved by foxes… I’d probably be just as cautious as you two, perhaps even more. I understand. I just hope I can show you two that not all bunnies are heartless devils. Slavers… I believe there is a special place of suffering for them in the afterlife.” Both foxes felt a chill in the air. “I need to get going. My parents are probably getting their ears in a twist. Don’t want them sending a patrol to look for me. It would make things too hot for the both of you. Nick, think you can take me back? I don’t want you to hurt yourself, but if you’re feeling better, I kinda need a guide. Wouldn’t want me to figure out where your camp is, right?” She pulled a cloth out of her pocket and was already tying it around her head, covering her eyes.

Nick looked at the ground, breathing softly. He never put much thought into his perception that most bunnies were bad, and he was sure that Finnick didn’t either. But perhaps they were being too critical. Bigoted in their own ways. “I… yeah. I’ll...  take you.” He pushed himself up. “Fin… hold the fort, would ya? I’ll be back.” The fennec nodded, sprawling out on the ground and making a makeshift pillow out of his empty backpack.

He didn’t know what to do or say as he and Judy exited from the woods. Just that he was barely holding her paw with a featherlight touch now, the air thick as molasses, opening his maw every so often but with no sounds coming out.

As they neared the edge of the town, they came to a stop inside a thicket, and he took off Judy’s blindfold. “You’re on your own here, Fluff. I’d love to take you all the way back but...you know, me predator, you prey.”

Judy wanly smiled at his feeble attempt at a joke. “It’s all right, Slick. I can find my way back to the store. It’s not like I’m blindfolded.”

Wincing at the slight jab, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry if Fin was kinda harsh back there.”

“Kinda?” she dismally chuckled.

“Okay, fine,” he huffed, throwing his paws up in frustration, “he was being a speciesist asshole. But can you blame him? Or me?”

“No, Nick,” she sighed, looking down at her feet. “I don’t blame either of you. If I were in your position, I’d probably feel the same way. But like I said,” looking into his face, her eyes full of hurt, “I’m not the Robinsons. I thought my actions tonight proved that. I know prey have committed countless acts of injustice against predators, but...I thought you could see that I was different. After everything I’ve done to earn your trust… What more could I even do? Will I always be considered just another bunny?”

“I’m just trying to explain my caution. You _seem_ different. You _act_ differently, but it’s hard to unlearn ten years of slavery.”

“Can’t teach an old canid new tricks, right?” She broke off a twig from a nearby bush and nibbled it in anger. “I placed my life in your paws. I let you lead me to lord knows where when you could’ve easily killed me, me the _meek bunny,_ and yet...” her voice trailed off as her eyes hardened into glass. “... Yeah, you can’t unlearn ten years of slavery, especially when it teaches you to see prey like prey see you. I’ll never be more than just a bunny to you, will I? Ju-just like them.”

Her breath hitched, tears threatening to fall. “Just like _them,”_ she repeated, whispering into the night air, her emotions getting the better of her.

“I-I...” For once, Nick had no answer to her accusation. He looked away, unable to bear seeing the pain in her eyes. “Look, we’ve got to leave soon. Fin and I can’t stay in one place for long. I know I wasn’t fair to you. But…would it be okay if you join us one more time before we leave? The last mammals we stayed with...we didn’t get the chance. And...I’d be the last to admit it but...after all you’ve done for us...for me...I’d really like to see you one more time. Maybe...maybe you did change my view about prey. I’ll try...for you.” He didn’t understand why he was saying this, why he was letting himself get attached to someone else he’d only lose, but the words came out before he could stop them. The images of Emmitt and Olivia flashed in his mind, and he had to hold in a whimper at their memory.

She forced a small smile. “Sure, Nick. My schedule is free tomorrow. Well, today,” she said, pointing out just how long they’ve remained up. “You’ll find me at the store, after closing hours. I’ll wait for you there.” She almost wanted to decline, but something in her made her want to see them again. Plus, they needed some sort of assistance. She would not be able to forgive if herself if they came to harm because of her inaction. “I’ll have more food for you. I can’t promise that it’ll be predator food but at least you’ll have enough for a week or so. Please take care of yourself this time. I don’t want to hear of Nick Wilde’s capture or death over the news, okay?” She quickly added, “Or Finnick’s,” annoyed with herself at leaving him out.

“Gotcha. I’ll-”

Without warning, Nick shoved Judy behind a bush and bolted away in the opposite direction. “What was that for!” she angrily shouted at his back, rubbing her shoulder just as the roar of an engine rushed past her. The color in her face drained as she saw a jeep with the flag of the Predator Patrol speeding in the direction Nick had run, a spotlight on the side of the vehicle directing its beam at the fleeing fox.

Her heart hammering away in fear, she saw Nick scampering away on all fours and she had to fight the instinctual urge to do the same. The engine revved as the jeep edged ever closer to the fox. If Nick tripped, he’d have no time to get out of the way; the vehicle would immediately crush him. “No no no! _Nick!”_ An icy spear stabbed her heart.

“Yeehaa, fellas!” yelled a zebra, whose upper body appeared through the roof of the jeep, “We got us our pelt! C’mon, boys! Faster! We’re gonna skin us a fox tonight!”

Judy’s blood froze at those words. She had heard of the atrocities committed by the PP, but she had hoped that they were only rumours. _I’ve got to do something!_

She noticed Nick was heading away from where he had pushed her and in the opposite direction of their camp, not using the available cover of the forest to hide. _Oh, you foolish, brave fox,_ she thought. _Still trying not to be a burden_. _Protecting others, but not yourself._

On the bumpy terrain, the jeep could not go at its full speed, allowing Judy to keep up with it as she predicted their movement, familiar with the path the fox was taking. Knowing the lay of the land like the back of her paw, it dawned on her that Nick would ultimately end up at the Harrington Waterfall near the local Lover’s Lane. Utilizing the training she had put herself through, she easily caromed off tree trunks, grabbing branches to swing forward, leaping over the fallen logs and rocks in her way as daylight slowly peeked over the edge of the treeline, as afraid as her to see the possible outcome of the Predator Patrol’s hunt. Her lungs burned for air but she did not stop, exerting every muscle to stay within sight of the metal chariot carrying her friend’s death sentence.

 _Friend._ The word reverberated in her head, giving her extra strength to follow, to do whatever she could to save him.

Her ears twitched as she heard the cracking thunder of bullets in the distance. Her blood turned colder and colder with each echoing shot, eventually turning to ice. _How is he still running?_ She was waiting for a whimper, a cry of pain as they pierced Nick’s body. Each second brought a fresh image of cruelty her imagination managed to come up with; the most heart-wrenching was the one where she saw Nick give up, breathing heavily just before a hail of lead rained down upon him, his body falling lifelessly to the ground as the soft, beautiful, unbroken crimson of his fur was replaced by dying coals; bullet wounds cutting off the thread of his life.

Shaking the image from her mind, just before she came to tears, she growled and pushed onwards, listening to the roar of an engine and the pants of a sick fox scratching away at the dirt with each galloping motion. Her fears pummeled her with every breath she took. _I can’t give up now! He still hasn’t and he needs my help._

More gunfire echoed through the air, coming in waves every couple of seconds. _They just keep shooting. They can’t be missing every –_ the answer leapt unbidden into her head, assaulting her like a scraggly goblin. _Those bastards! They’re herding him!_ She didn’t want to imagine the torture it was to his mind. Those metal slugs had the potential to end his life; just one could do it if it hit in the right place. But they just kept _deliberately missing. Why? Entertainment?_ She mouthed the last part as she ran, a look of insurmountable fury etched on her face. “I’ll kill them!” she growled, the anger and fury burning like a sun gone nova in her chest.

Finally exiting the underbrush, Judy skidded to a stop near the river. She took this moment to catch her breath; she was now ahead of both Nick and the jeep. Soon enough, as both came into view, she caught sight of Nick, his muzzle wide open as he desperately sucked in breaths of air while his pace faltered. The bunny watched as he stumbled, barely keeping enough speed to keep from being run down by the jeep. Guttural, _hysterical_ laughter spewed from the jeep’s cabin, most of it coming from the zebra with the gun as his head swung back and forth in psychopathic glee.

Judy readied herself to jump onto the vehicle, hiding in the tall grass with her eyes trained on the mechanical monstrosity.

Just as she was about to leap at it, she was suddenly tackled from behind, knocking her down. “N-Nick!” Judy coughed, tears scalding her eyes as the jeep blazed by, chasing after the very exhausted fox. Twisting in her assailant’s grasp, she discovered it was the fennec fox whom she had thought was back at the camp. “Wh-wh-why! You d-dumb...” she wheezed at Finnick, punching him square in the face.

Squirming out of his grasp, she leapt up to get a better view. Her heart lodged in her throat and her tears tumbled into the grass as she returned her attention to where Nick was.

Her eyes widened as the blurred image of the jeep skidded to a stop, finally cornering the fox. Nick’s silhouette shook as his gasps of breath tore at Judy’s ears. The engine cut off, allowing Judy to finally notice the sound of crashing water. They were at the waterfall.

The color of red shrunk as it backed ever closer to the edge of the cliff. Popping up through the open roof, the zebra–shouting and laughing while tightly clutching a magnum in his hoof–took aim at the red smudge on the embankment. The sounds of the crashing water, hysterical laughter, and thunderous boom spilled together in Judy’s head as she tried to make her way towards him, her paws reaching out and grasping at the image just before it fell over the horizon, into the icy water below.  
  
“ _NOOOOOOO!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> This story will also be posted in our respective individual accounts in AO3, FF.net and DA. Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave us comments! We live for those. XD


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